


Something Good (The Second Time Around)

by Ravenclaw626



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, Childbirth, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is a Good Parent, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Non-Canonical Character Death, POV Harry Potter, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Harry, Pregnant Sex, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Research, Rimming, Sex Toys, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Single Parent Harry Potter, Single Parents, Stay-At-Home Parent Harry Potter, Top Draco Malfoy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weddings, labor pains, natural birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 99,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw626/pseuds/Ravenclaw626
Summary: After putting his youngest on the Hogwarts Express, Harry feels a little lost and without direction in life. There’s someone on the platform who notices, though, who also knows how it feels to come back to an empty home. Can this someone help Harry find his way?After years of contentment, acceptance, and ‘good enough’ — he never could have imagined that a whirlwind romance with his former childhood nemesis would become hissomething goodafter a lifetime of trials.A story about love, happiness, and second chances.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, James Sirius Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 164
Kudos: 1200
Collections: HD Mpreg 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt #49: _Harry and Draco start dating while their children (with Ginny and Astoria) are at Hogwarts, but when they find out they’re having another baby, they have to decide how to break the news to their kids._
> 
> This is my first try at writing fiction of any sort, so please be kind!
> 
> Draco and Harry’s whirlwind romance is based loosely off my relationship with my spouse. We went from first date to married in under three months, and are happily married almost 12 years later.
> 
> I owe an immense debt of gratitude to my diligent crew of betas, E, R, L, I, and M, who were very patient with me and made this story something fit to be read.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

“Potter?”

“Potter?”

“Potter!”

Harry jumps, startled. He turns toward the voice and finds himself facing— Draco Malfoy?

Malfoy’s brow furrows as he studies Harry’s face. He looks almost concerned for him. _Why would Draco Malfoy be concerned…about me? Do I really look as lost as I feel?_ Harry looks back at him, unsure what to say.

“Are you all right?” Malfoy inquires.

Harry fidgets, wringing his hands. “I…I…yeah…yeah, I’m fine. I just…don’t know where to go from here.”

Malfoy eyes Harry carefully. “What do you mean you don’t know where…oh! You’ve put your youngest on the train, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry looks around, taking in the empty platform. How long had he been standing there, gazing at the spot where Lily had been waving before the train pulled away? “Are we the only ones left?”

“I was catching up with Blaise. He’s just gone. But yes. The train left nearly half an hour ago.”

Harry runs his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s just…” Harry trails off.

“I think I understand.” Malfoy heaves a sigh, “Would you like to go get a cup of tea?”

Harry stares at Malfoy, baffled. Why in Merlin’s name would Draco Malfoy want to have tea with _him_??

“I know what it’s like, Potter. I know what it’s like to put your child on the train and watch them pull away and have no one waiting for you at home. Let’s go have a cup of tea. It will get you off the platform, at least.”

Harry’s face softens just a bit. He does know, Harry supposes. And it would give him somewhere to go besides home to an empty house. Harry gives a brief nod, “I…yeah…yeah. Okay. Lead the way.”

The corner of Malfoy’s mouth quirks up just a bit. “Shall we, then?”

He turns and heads off the platform, Harry trailing behind him.

* * *

Harry sits at a table tucked in the corner of a Muggle coffee shop just outside King’s Cross. He can’t understand what on earth had possessed Draco Malfoy to invite him for tea, nor can he discern what had made him think accepting the invitation was a good idea. But here he is. In a Muggle coffee shop. Waiting for Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy was decent enough when Harry had encountered him in the last several years. Harry’s middle son and Malfoy’s son are best friends and starting Third Year at Hogwarts together in Slytherin House. Albus had visited the Malfoys’ posh London flat and Scorpius had been to Potter Cottage dozens of times over the last two summers, but Harry and Malfoy have never interacted beyond coordinating visits and pick up times. They had certainly never gone out for tea together, even with the boys.

A tea tray appears in Harry’s field of vision and he looks up, watching Malfoy delicately place the tray with two teacups on the table. Malfoy settles into the seat across from Harry and pours them each a cup.

“Thanks,” Harry says as Malfoy places a cup in front of him with the milk and sugar. Harry adds a splash of milk and takes a spoon of sugar.

“You’re welcome,” Malfoy returns, busying himself with his own tea. Harry slides him the milk and sugar, watching as Malfoy takes two spoons of sugar before returning the milk and sugar to the tray. Malfoy looks up at Harry and hesitates. A heavy silence stretches several seconds before Malfoy’s face arranges itself into something resembling determination. “Albus told Scorpius he thinks you’re going to have trouble coping with Lily starting Hogwarts. He’s concerned about you being left alone and asked Scorpius to see if I would check in on you.” A hint of a smirk dances across Malfoy’s features. ”I promised both boys I’d make sure you didn’t throw yourself on the tracks.”

Harry snorts and a ghost of a smile touches the corners of his mouth. “This—” Harry gestures between them, “—makes a bit more sense now, knowing that Al’s been meddling in things.”

“He’s a great kid. Scorpius said he was really upset. I thought maybe he was being overly dramatic, but you do seem quite disconcerted.” Malfoy scrutinizes Harry, eyes intense.

Harry feels his cheeks take on just a hint of heat at the open inspection he’s being given. “It hit me harder than I thought it would. I’ve never been without at least one of the kids — not since Ginny died.” Harry sips his tea and sighs softly. “I’ve never even left them overnight with anyone. I just couldn’t. Even when James and Al had gone to Hogwarts, I still had Lily. I even did all their tutoring and schooling myself.”

Draco quirks an eyebrow. “ _You_ did all their schooling?”

“Well,” Harry huffs a laugh, “Hermione helped.”

“I’m sure she did.” Draco chuckles before looking at Harry with narrowed eyes, a bit of confusion crossing his face. “Did you not have any other help? I mean, surely the Weasleys…”

Harry tries but fails to keep his rage from rising and showing on his face. “Absolutely not,” he cuts in sharply. Harry’s teacup rattles as he sets it forcefully back on the table.

Shock springs to Malfoy’s features. “I apologise if that wasn’t appropriate to ask,” he stammers quickly. “I just assumed…”

Harry looks at Malfoy’s face. His remorse is evident, but Harry can’t decide if he should disclose the situation with the Weasleys. He’d worked tirelessly to keep it out of the press in that year after Ginny had died. No one knew beyond himself, the Weasleys, and Hermione.

The public knew Ginny had died two days after Lily was born from a sudden postpartum haemorrhage of the magical core. The press coverage had been plenteous and invasive as Harry and the Weasleys had navigated her funeral and burial. But the public remained entirely ignorant of what had transpired after the rest of the world moved on, leaving Harry with three children under five and the Weasleys reeling from the death of another child.

Harry takes a deep breath and tries to school his expression into something less severe. “It’s okay, most people assume that. It’s just—” Harry gropes for a word and comes up empty. “It’s just not accurate.”

“I see,” Malfoy’s voice tapers as he lifts his teacup to his mouth. He obviously doesn’t see at all, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to pry.

Harry’s internal monologue continues its raucous war inside his head. One side says to tell Malfoy, to let it out after eleven years. The other says to shove it back down in the dark corner of his soul inhabited by all the other losses he has endured; his parents, Sirius, victims of the war, Ginny. Telling someone — having someone besides Hermione who would know he really is completely alone now — is so tempting to Harry’s battered and lonely soul. And Malfoy has always been discreet enough with anything involving Albus.

Harry eyes Malfoy speculatively, trying to decide how much to let out. “This is not public. I worked to keep it quiet and I would like it to stay that way.”

Malfoy nods in understanding and observes Harry with a look of gentle expectation. Harry lets his eyes fall closed briefly as he sorts his emotions from the basic facts about the situation. He still rages when he lets it get the better of him, but this is neither the time nor place for that.

“It boils down to Molly Weasley wanting to take over most of raising the kids. I refused and she decided to bring up my shite childhood and emotional damage from the war and used it to try and call me an unfit parent. It ended with me cutting off almost all contact. There’s a lot more to it, but that’s basically it.”

Harry watches Malfoy’s face go from surprise to comprehension to something Harry can’t quite identify. _Maybe disbelief?_

“Sweet Merlin,” Malfoy breathes, “I had no idea. That’s inexcusable. I mean, I wondered why Albus had never said anything around our place about his grandparents, but there are not grandparents in our situation either, so it was never something that was a topic of discussion.”

Harry shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ve never really gone into detail about it with the kids. They were four and two when it happened. Albus has no memories of the Weasleys or his mum. James has a few spotty memories of them, but he knows that there was a disagreement and we went separate ways.” Harry feels Malfoy’s concerned eyes watching him as he fiddles with his cup. “If they asked, I’d explain further. If they expressed a desire to see them, we would discuss it. I don’t want to add that emotional weight to what they already handle. The kids and I, we have a very open relationship and talk pretty freely about everything, but I also don’t see the need to put that burden on them.”

Malfoy nods, understanding settling in his eyes “I’ve done something similar with Scorpius. He grew up knowing the basic facts regarding my parents. He knew they followed a bad man with wrong ideas about blood purity and magical power. I didn’t feel the need to disclose further when he was young. He’s met my mother twice. He never had contact with my father. I’ve made sure to teach him differently than I was taught. More details would not make the situation better, so I opted not to get into it.”

Malfoy hesitates and runs a hand through his short blond hair, standing some of it on end. His gaze shifts away beyond Harry to look at something across the room. He seems a bit uneasy as he speaks again.

“Obviously, I had to discuss some of it further before he left for Hogwarts. The war is covered in History of Magic and our name is affiliated with Voldemort. I wanted to make sure he knew that’s not who we are now.” Malfoy shakes off the unease and looks back to Harry. “But anyhow, no grandparents in our situation, either.”

“What about Astoria’s parents?” Harry inquires, curiosity getting the better of him before his brain registers that it might not be appropriate to ask. To his knowledge, the elder Greengrasses are still alive.

“Astoria and I had an arranged marriage for the purpose of supplying me with an heir,” Malfoy states with a very matter-of-fact tone. “She had no desire to be a mother. She fulfilled her obligation and when Scorpius was six months old, she weaned him and signed away parental rights. She was given a substantial alimony payment upon our divorce and left the country shortly after.” Malfoy’s features soften slightly. “I believe she still lives in France.”

Harry’s mind tries assiduously to make sense of what Malfoy is saying. “That sounds like a business transaction,” is what finally exits his mouth, the tone somewhere between a statement and a question.

Malfoy nods tersely. “It _was_ a business transaction. I’m a gay man, Potter. Why on earth would I want a wife?” _What?_ Harry blinks, startled. _Malfoy’s gay? Why did I never—_ Malfoy’s shoulders raise in something that’s almost-but-not-quite a shrug. ”I wanted a son. Astoria wanted to live comfortably without being tied to a man. We both got what we wanted.”

“I had no idea you’re gay.” Harry feels his cheeks heat. _Fuck. I didn’t mean to just blurt that out!_

Draco quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. “How did you not know? I’m not at all closeted. It’s…common knowledge, I think.”

“Pardon me if I haven't dedicated my time to stalking you like l used to in school,” Harry quips, voice laced with sarcasm.

A short barking laugh escapes Malfoy’s mouth. “I _was_ closeted then, but as soon as I got away from the Noseless Bastard and my parents, I was able to freely be who I am.” Malfoy pauses, taking a sip of tea and regarding Harry with a bit of trepidation. “Do you have a problem with homosexuality, Potter?”

“Not in the least,” Harry shakes his head vehemently. “James is gay, you know. Got his first boyfriend over the summer, actually. And I’m not entirely straight myself, so it would be rather hypocritical of me to have an issue with it, wouldn’t you say?” Harry gives his own almost-shrug.

“You’ve certainly kept that quiet,” Malfoy intones carefully. There's a carefully controlled edge of something in Malfoy's voice. Not anger, exactly. _Perhaps disappointment?_

“I never set out to keep it quiet,” Harry replies firmly, eyes meeting Malfoy’s and holding his gaze. “It’s not something I hide and it’s not something I’m ashamed of. The kids know, and so do my friends. Ginny knew.” Harry takes a deliberate breath and waves a discreet hand over his cup, warming his now-cold tea. “Most people just assume, I guess, since I married a woman. And I haven’t dated or anything since Ginny died. I haven’t really done anything since then besides raising the kids. I retired early from the Aurors at the end of my paternity leave and it’s been me and them ever since.”

Malfoy nods in understanding. “Single parenting certainly leaves very little time for one's self. I maintained my position as a potions researcher and developer and hired a nanny for work hours, but Scorpius and I were much the same. It felt very much like us against the world, especially at the start.”

“You’ve done a brilliant job with him, you know? Scorpius is a great kid. I’m glad Al’s had a friend like him.”

Harry is unprepared for the full-faced smile that lights up Malfoy’s face. “Honestly, Potter, you have no idea what hearing that means to me. I was so misguided in my childhood.” Malfoy breathes a laugh, “I was a right spoiled little blood purist brat, honestly.”

Harry’s eyes go wide and the barking laugh that escapes his mouth takes him by surprise before he manages to return Malfoy’s grin. “That you were, Malfoy, that you were. My nose reminds me, every time it rains.”

“Merlin, I was such a little arsehole.” Malfoy shakes his downturned head with a derisive smile before lifting his chin to look Harry square in the eye. “But I really wanted to raise Scorpius to be the complete opposite of that. It’s part of why I went to such lengths to have an heir. I could change the meaning behind the name Malfoy. I could…I could be on the right side of something for once. I could teach my son to be everything I was not. I could teach him to be a good man.”

Harry is astounded at the conviction and sincerity in the grey eyes locked on his. He already knows Malfoy has been working to improve his family name. He works at the Center for Rare Magical Maladies, a philanthropic organization, and has made sure funds for war victims and groups that were traditionally discriminated against had sufficient and ongoing resources. But that isn’t what Malfoy takes pride in. He takes pride in raising his son to be a good man.

Something vaguely warm pools in Harry’s gut and he returns the intense gaze. “You’ve done exactly that, Malfoy. You’ve raised a fine young man from what I can see. And for what it’s worth, it sure seems to me like you’ve made a good man out of yourself, as well.”

Malfoy’s mouth falls open the slightest bit and he quickly drops his gaze. Long moments pass as he takes several deep breaths and firmly sets his jaw. His head raises slowly to lock grey eyes to green once again.

“Thank you, Potter. Thank you.”

* * *

Harry apparates to the lane leading to Potter Cottage and strolls towards the house. It was late afternoon, nearly evening, before he and Malfoy — _well, he’s Draco now, isn’t he?_ — left the coffee shop. The conversation had swung from lighthearted banter to sincere apologies for everything from the war, and Hogwarts, and Myrtle’s bathroom.

Harry’s still struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s found Draco to be such pleasant company. His former nemesis seems to have grown into a genuinely good person. Harry has always known that Draco wasn’t really evil when they were kids— that he was a terrified child doing what he felt he had to do to survive. Harry had told the Wizengamot as much when he testified after the war, securing Draco’s pardon, but he’d never expected Draco to completely reject his family and his upbringing in this way.

But he had.

Harry breathes in the cooling autumn air and mulls over how very much he’s enjoyed spending the afternoon with Draco. So much so, that they parted with a friendly handshake, agreeing to owl and find time to get together again. Plus, Harry can’t deny that he finds Draco very _very_ easy on the eyes. He’s definitely Harry’s type of man in the looks department.

Shaking his head, Harry mindlessly kicks a small rock up the path in front of him. He has no idea what to do now that he’s acknowledged his attraction to the blond, especially considering how very open Draco had been about his sexuality. He’s not supposed to find someone whose father once tried to murder him attractive, is he?

Pushing the thoughts of Draco aside for now, Harry climbs the front steps of Potter Cottage, waves his hand to unlock the wards, and pushes through the front door. Stepping just over the threshold, he sighs softly. The house seems so empty already, without the kids.

His afternoon with Draco allowed him to put off this moment, but now he has no choice but to figure out who he is now— eleven years later with all three kids off to Hogwarts. That particular bit of self-discovery will have to wait until later, however, because what he is now is hungry.

Harry toes off his shoes in the entry and moves into the house, lighting a fire with a wordless, wandless _Incendio_ on his way into the kitchen. Moving around the kitchen, he starts putting together dinner for himself.

* * *

He is just finishing dinner when there’s a scratch at the window. Looking up, he smiles and rises quickly to let Cupcake in.

“Hey there, girl,” Harry says, running his hand affectionately over the owl’s back. “You and Lily made it all right, then?”

Harry unties the parchment from Cupcake’s leg, retrieves some owl treats, and makes sure there’s water in the bowl by the perch. Sliding his empty dinner plate aside, Harry unfurls the parchment to see Lily’s favourite glitter ink scrawled across the page.

*

_Hi Daddy!_

_Hello from the GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM! The Sorting Hat barely touched my head before shouting that I belonged in Gryffindor! I think Al is a little upset now that he’s the only one in the family who isn’t a Lion. He looked a little worried at the Welcoming Feast._

_The train ride to Hogwarts was awesome! I sat with Al and Scorpius most of the way because I didn’t really know anyone else. I do now, though, because there’s 6 other first-year girls in Gryffindor, plus 9 boys. There’s a girl named Mina that seems really cool. I think we might be friends._

_I miss you already! Please write soon. Can you please go up to my room and find my sparkle quills and send them to me? I forgot to pack them._

_Love,_

_Lily_

*

Harry beams at the letter through the twisting of his heart. His sweet Lily is a Gryffindor. His last baby is at Hogwarts. He won’t have a child at home year-round ever again. He shakes his head at the request for her sparkle quills, though, knowing it is much more likely that Lily couldn’t _find_ her sparkle quills in that pit she calls a bedroom. He will find them, of course, and send them to her anyway.

By the time Harry's finished the washing up and cleaned up the kitchen, two more owls are impatiently tapping the window panes. Pushing open the window, he ushers in Woody first. Woody, ostensibly named after Oliver Wood, one of James’ favourite quidditch players, allows Harry to untie the parchment before nipping him on the ear and going to join Cupcake. “You’re a right arsehole, you are,” Harry grouses at the bird. Midnight, Albus’ owl, hoots softly where she waits by the window as Harry removes the final parchment and gives her a quick pat. “Go on then, girl. Have some treats and rest.”

Midnight swoops gracefully past Harry as he lowers himself into his chair again, spreading James’ letter open first.

*

_Dad,_

_We made it to Hogwarts just fine. The train ride was a little weird. I was with Matthew with other friends around for the first time since we started dating. We sat together with our friends, but he wasn’t really comfortable being obvious, so we didn’t really do more than acknowledge each other and talk like we used to. He’s not as open about being gay as I am. Most of the Ravenclaws in his year don’t even know. I’m hoping to talk to him tomorrow before he heads to classes so we can decide how things are going to be. I’m afraid he’s going to decide he wants to break up with me instead of trying to continue our relationship around everyone at school. It’s really hard because I can’t talk to anyone here about it because no one is supposed to know yet._

_Lily’s here next to me in the common room. I’m letting her send her owl off first so you’ll get the news of her sorting from her first. She seems pleased. Al seemed a little upset at the Welcoming Feast, so I’m sure you’ll be getting a letter from him soon, too._

_Love,_

_James_

*

“Oh, James,” Harry sighs aloud. It’s hard to be fifteen sometimes. It’s probably even harder to be fifteen and openly gay, he supposes. Harry is thankful again for his open dialogue with his kids. He’d rather them talk to him than hide everything like he did when he was that age. Placing James’ letter on top of Lily’s, he unrolls Al’s scroll.

*

_Dad,_

_Hi from Hogwarts! The train ride was fine. Lily sat with me and Scorp most of the time. She seemed nervous but excited and she didn’t cry when we left the station like she was afraid she might. Scorp and I are both going to go out for Quidditch again this year, so we spent most of the trip talking about who else might try out and if we think we’ll make the team._

_Are you doing ok home by yourself? Is it weird? It’s kind of weird having all three of us kids here and knowing you are at home. What are you going to do now?_

_Write soon!_

_Love,_

_Al_

*

Gathering the letters, Harry heads for his study to pen replies to all three of his children. Lily needs her quills, James needs some relationship advice, and Al needs some reassurance. They may not be at home, but at least he knows his children still need him, even if it’s just in letter form.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later, Harry is humming softly to the wireless as he finishes chopping onions at the kitchen counter. He scans the ingredients for his favourite chicken and pasta dish, laid out on the counter, and reaches for the garlic. Just as he’s peeling the first clove, a tapping sound draws his attention to the kitchen window. Opening it, Harry takes in the impressive-looking eagle owl.

“Well aren’t you a pretty one.” Harry lifts the tag attached to the owl’s leather harness before turning his attention to the parchment tied to the beautiful owl’s leg. “Hello there, Pyxis. What have you got for me?”

Harry removes the rolled message and feeds Pyxis several treats before she makes her way to the owl perch. “Waiting for an answer, are you?” Harry leans over the kitchen table, spreading the parchment to read.

*

_Harry,_

_It has been requested that I check on you. Scorpius wrote to say that Albus has been quite distressed in his worry about you. I told Scorpius we chatted after the train left but he’s requested I check on you again for Al’s benefit. If I’m honest, it’s not at all a burden, as I enjoyed our conversation over tea, but I didn’t want to seem overbearing by owling too soon._

_Would you like to go get some dinner tonight and catch up again?_

_Pyxis has been instructed to wait for your reply._

_Draco_

*

Harry’s stomach flutters a bit and he bites his bottom lip. He hasn’t realised how much he wanted to see Draco again until now, with the opportunity laid out before him. Would it be too forward to ask Draco to join him for the dinner he’s already started? Before he can talk himself out of it, Harry strides to the study to reply.

*

_Draco,_

_I’ve written Al myself and tried to reassure him. Clearly my word is not good enough._

_I’ve already started making a chicken pasta bake. Would you like to join me here for dinner? You’re welcome to come any time, but dinner will probably be another hour and a half. I’ll adjust the wards to let you in before I send this._

_Harry_

*

Harry scratches the Floo address and Apparition coordinates for Potter Cottage at the bottom, as well as the wording needed to allow Draco through the Fidelius Charm. He rolls up the parchment, seals it with a gentle spell, and sends Pyxis off with the reply. Resting his forehead against the cool glass of the now-closed window, he can’t decide if dinner with Draco is a brilliant idea or a terrifying one.

He hasn’t needed to navigate even a potentially romantic situation in well over a decade. He still doesn’t know how Draco feels about any of this. Hell, he doesn’t even know for sure how he feels about this himself.

He shoves away from the window and returns to the counter, glad that he spent the first two days without the kids deep cleaning the house. He even wrote Hermione to ask if he could borrow her copy of _The Modern Magic Guide to Household Spells_ specifically for the chapter on deep cleaning.

Harry pulls out a loaf of Italian bread and lays it on the counter. If he’s going to have potentially eventually romantic company for dinner, he’d better dress it up a bit; at least with some salad and bread. Turning back to the cutting board, Harry forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

Twenty minutes later — garlic finished, tomatoes diced, and basil chopped — Harry feels the wards shift just as he’s about to light the hob for the sauce. Wiping his hands on a towel, he heads for the front door.

Harry opens the door as Draco is climbing the front steps. Draco’s eyes widen just a fraction in surprise, but Harry smiles.

“I felt the wards shift when you Apparated in. They’re pretty restricted, so I figured it was you.”

Draco’s bright smile makes Harry’s pulse flutter. “Your house is under the Fidelius?”

Harry turns to lead Draco into the house. “It has to be. Even twenty years on from the war, there are still people who want to find my house, or me, or my kids. Some for completely harmless purposes, but others…”

“I have no doubt.” Draco hands Harry a bottle of wine before shrugging out of his jacket. “I still occasionally get unwanted attention courtesy of that time of our life. I imagine it is much worse for you.”

“Some people can’t leave the past in the past.” Harry waves a hand dismissively. “Thank you for this.” Harry raises the bottle of wine and takes Draco’s jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks in the entry. “Come on through to the kitchen. You’ll be stuck in there if you want company, at least until dinner goes into the oven.”

“If I must,” Draco drawls, following Harry through the sitting room to the large, open kitchen.

Harry hooks a foot around one of the barstools at the counter and slides it out. “Make yourself comfortable.” He moves to light the hob and reaches for the olive oil. “Does this wine need to go on ice?”

“No, it has a built-in chilling charm. I activated it when I pulled it from the cellar.” Draco settles himself on the stool, one elbow on the counter, and watches Harry work. “You enjoy cooking, then?”

Harry turns to Draco with a quick smile. “I do now. I didn’t, growing up.” Harry slides chicken into the skillet and moves back to work on the sauce. “The Dursleys — my aunt and her family — made me do all the cooking from the time I was tall enough to reach the hob. I hated it then, but after the war, after spending that last year never having more than heated tins of food or scraps of bread, I started to find it relaxing. Comforting, even.”

Draco’s eyebrows rise. “You did their cooking?” Draco sounds surprised and maybe a little angry.

Harry nods and turns towards Draco to reach for the basil. “And their cleaning. And their yard work. And anything else they didn’t want to do.” He shrugs. “My childhood was pretty much crap. As a parent, I’ve basically tried to do the absolute opposite of everything done to me growing up.”

“Speaking of your kids, apparently Albus has been quite concerned and has gotten upset a few times worrying about you. Scorpius said he cried the first night back, thinking about you here by yourself.”

Harry notices Draco’s effort to move the subject gently away from Harry’s childhood and smiles appreciatively.

“Albus has always been my worrier. He’s so much like me, emotionally.” Harry lifts a spoon to his mouth and tastes the sauce, then reaches for the spices. “His letter to me the night of the Welcoming Feast had a bunch of questions about how I was doing and what I was to do now. I replied and tried to reassure him, but until I have something more concrete to tell him than ‘I’m fine and I’ll figure it out,’ he’s probably just going to keep on worrying.” Harry lifts another spoon and tastes the sauce, wrinkling his nose a bit. Grabbing a fresh spoon, he dips some sauce and holds the spoon out to Draco. “Taste this. Do you think it needs more salt?”

Instead of reaching out for the spoon, Draco stands from his stool and steps towards Harry. He puts his hand on the spoon, partially over Harry’s hand, and guides it to his own mouth. Harry’s eyes widen slightly and his other hand automatically comes up below Draco’s chin to catch any drips.

Everything seems to freeze for just a moment, save for the pixies doing the tango in Harry’s chest. But then Draco slides the spoon from his mouth, drops his hand, and closes his eyes as he tastes, and Harry shuffles back just a bit and resumes breathing.

Draco’s eyes open and seek out Harry’s. “That is absolutely delicious. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Draco’s eyes dart down Harry’s body for just an instant before he shifts back to his stool.

Harry feels like his whole body is on fire. _Is Draco flirting?!?_ _Maybe he’s someone who casually touches friends like that. But then, maybe he’s not. How does one tell?!?_ Harry’s internal monologue basically becomes a continuous scream before he gathers his wits and turns back to the hob. His “Thank you” comes out a bit more breathy than he intends before he clears his throat and continues. “I’m glad you like it.”

The soft smile on Draco’s lips sets the pixies to dancing with renewed vigour and Harry busies himself assembling the pasta, sauce, and chicken, before covering it with cheese and sliding it in the oven.

“So what _do_ you intend to do now that you’ve got all three kids off to Hogwarts?” Draco inquires.

Harry takes a steadying breath, thankful for the change in atmosphere. “I’m really not sure, that’s the issue. I haven’t worried about me — about what I would do outside this house — for almost 12 years. It’s going to take some time to figure that out, I’m afraid.”

Draco looks curiously at Harry. “Not going back to the Aurors, then?”

Harry shakes his head and turns to slice the bread. “No. I was told I could return, but I don’t want a job that puts my kids at risk of losing their only remaining parent. Especially given the family circumstances, it’s just not wise. So I’ll be looking for something new.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Draco agrees.

Harry puts the bread on a plate and shuts the finished salad in the cooling cupboard. “That’ll take about another half an hour in the oven. Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

Draco rises from his stool and slips it back beneath the counter. “I would like that very much. Lead the way.”

Harry gives Draco a brief tour of the house, leaving out the attic and his children’s bedrooms, but spending a bit of extra time in the study, before guiding him back downstairs and throwing open the French doors leading to the back patio. The sun is drifting down toward the horizon, setting the sky on fire. Draco steps past Harry, gazing around the sprawling yard.

Harry knows what his own back yard looks like and is gazing at Draco instead. The setting sun makes his white-blond hair glisten like gold and gives his pale skin an almost ethereal glow. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. _Well. That’s it then. I’m well and truly screwed. I fancy Draco Malfoy._

Draco snaps Harry from his reverie. “Is that a pitch down the hill?”

Blinking and forcing himself out of his own head, Harry smiles, “It is. Only half regulation, but it serves the purpose. Do you want to walk down and have a look?”

A delighted grin from Draco makes Harry’s pixies take up their dancing once more. “Absolutely!” They set off down the hill side by side. “That’s one of the downsides to having a flat in London proper. No place to play Quidditch.”

“Can’t you use the London pitch in the wizarding section of Hyde Park?” Harry inquires.

Draco’s face falls just a bit and Harry immediately regrets asking. “I wasn’t welcome. I haven’t tried in years, since before Scorpius was born, but when I did, it turned out most people aren’t keen on sharing a pitch with a Malfoy, and they’re not afraid to make sure I know they don’t want me there.” Draco lifts his left arm, wrist up, and sighs. “I might not carry the same mark as my father, but I do still carry his last name. It’s better now than it used to be, but I’ve not tried going to the pitch again, not since that first time.”

Harry stretches out his hand and spells on the lights surrounding the pitch as they approach. “I’m sorry people made you feel unwanted. You’re welcome to fly here any time you wish. Scorpius, too.” He turns towards a small building to the side of the pitch. “Come on, I’ll show you the changing room and where we keep the brooms and balls.”

Touching a hand to the door and then pulling it open, Harry holds it to let Draco step in first. Following behind, Harry nearly walks straight into Draco, who has stopped abruptly just inside.

“This is eleven-year-old me’s wet dream,” Draco says in wonder. Harry sees the flush creeping up Draco’s neck as soon as the words are out.

Bursting out laughing, Harry puts a hand to the small of Draco’s back and gently propels him forward. “What can I say? Gin and I both loved Quidditch and when we built this house, I still couldn’t set foot _anywhere_ in public without causing a commotion.” Harry shrugs one shoulder. “So we splurged a little on this.”

Draco stands, wide-eyed, and looks around. The large room is bright and covered in posters of Quidditch players, team posters, and other memorabilia. Along the wall opposite them, past a long row of benches, is a bank of large lockers decorated with insignia and colours of various Quidditch teams. Draco steps over to one end and runs his hand along them. “These all have names?”

“Yeah, we all have one — me, the boys…even Ginny’s locker is still here. And then any friends or family that come fly have one, as well. That end has a bunch of the boys’ friends, including Scorpius. There’s a charm that personalises them based on your preferences.” Harry motions to the opposite end of the lockers. “Adults are over here. Come on. You can pick one for yourself.”

“You’re giving me a locker?” Draco’s voice is incredulous as he follows behind Harry.

“Well, yeah.” Harry feels his face heat. “I’m rather hoping you’d like to come fly sometime, if that’s all right?.”

_Am I flirting? Merlin, I’m awful at this._

“Yeah.” Harry can’t figure out the emotion in Draco’s hesitant voice. “Yeah. That’s brilliant.”

Harry grins. “Go on then. Pick one out.”

Draco walks along the lockers, pauses at Harry’s, done in Puddlemere United’s colours, and smiles softly. Moving a little further, Draco places a hand on a locker three down from Harry’s. “Would this one be all right?”

“Of course. Lay your hand on it, just there above the handle.” Harry pulls his wand as Draco obediently places his hand as instructed. Muttering an incantation, Harry smiles as Draco gasps, his eyes widening as the locker changes from plain white to navy and gold and _D. Malfoy_ appears across the nameplate.

“There you go. It’ll open to your touch now.” Harry watches Draco reach for the handle and open his locker. “I didn’t realise you supported Puddlemere.”

Draco turns from grinning at his locker to grin at Harry. “Yeah, for quite some time. I supported the Tornadoes in school, though. Thank you. This is fabulous.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry grins back. “We better get back up to the house. Dinner should be about ready.”

They turn and head for the door. “Next time, we should go for a fly. Maybe play a Seekers’ game?” Draco smirks at Harry with a challenge in his eyes.

“You’re on!” Harry pushes the door open and they trudge up the hill towards the house.

* * *

Harry carefully shakes the pan over the hob, not wanting to burn the popcorn he’s making. _This has been a great evening. Really great, actually. And Draco doesn’t seem overly anxious to leave since he did agree to stay for another glass of wine and a movie._ Harry turns the popcorn into the large bowl on the counter and wandlessly levitates the bowl and two glasses of wine ahead of him towards the sitting room. He pushes the door open and finds Draco standing by the mantle, lips stretching into a smile at the sight of Harry.

 _That smile will be the death of me_.

Harry directs the popcorn to the coffee table and reaches out to take both glasses of wine in his hands. He passes one to Draco as they sit down on opposite ends of the couch.

“Thank you.” Draco turns towards Harry as he settles on the couch. “I was looking at your photographs.” Draco gestures to the mantle. “You’ve done a lot of travelling with your kids.”

“I have. I never got to travel as a child, so it’s been an adventure for all of us. It’s also brought us closer together,” Harry smiles at the memories. “As I said over dinner, we’re close and have a really open relationship. My kids all know they can talk to me about anything, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Anything?” Draco inquires, a smirk crossing his lips again.

“Literally anything,” Harry smirks back. “Sometimes it’s a little shocking what they’ll talk to me about, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Like the summer before last when James waltzed in while I was cooking dinner and asked for detailed explanations of gay sex.”

Draco chokes on his wine. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in the least.” Harry laughs, feeling his face heat. “We talked about it, though. In detail.”

“Merlin, I wish I’d had someone to do that for me,” Draco chuckles.

“I feel the same way. And that’s exactly why I did it.” Harry takes a sip of wine.

“Scorpius and I are close, too. I don’t think you can raise your kids on your own and not end up closer than most.” Harry nods in agreement. “But we’ve managed to not have that particular discussion yet.” Draco shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “Though, we did have to have some pretty tough conversations about the war.”

“That’s never easy. I mean, _I_ found it hard, and I don’t have the same family history as you.” Harry pauses in thought. “You’ve done so much to leave all that behind; it has to be painful to be forced to rehash it with your own son.”

“It was. It _is_. But it also feels like some sort of twisted reparation.” Draco’s gaze becomes distant. “I acknowledge who I was and who my parents were, and then my atonement is who I have become.”

“For what it’s worth, I like who you’ve become.” Harry catches himself forgetting to breathe again as Draco’s eyes lock onto his own.

“If our seventeen-year-old selves could see us now.” Draco drawls with a hint of a smile. 

“They’d never believe it,” Harry says, far more huskily than he intends. He lets his vision linger on Draco, hesitant to break this moment that he doesn’t quite know how to interpret.

Draco clears his throat and looks away from Harry. “So,” he says with a bright tone that sounds just a little forced, “what movie are we going to watch?”

Standing and crossing to a shelf filled with DVDs, Harry pulls three off the shelf. “Considering you said you haven’t seen many Muggle films, why don’t you pick from these? I’ve seen them all and they’re all quite good, but also very different from one another.”

Draco accepts the cases from Harry and looks through them, “ _Spectre 007_ , _Deadpool_ , and _Love, Simon_. I haven’t seen any of these.” Flipping them over, Draco begins to read the backs.

“I’ll go grab the wine and pour us another glass while you decide.” Harry slips off the couch and retreats to the kitchen. The door swings shut and Harry braces both hands on the counter, closing his eyes.

 _Was I too bold putting something like_ Love, Simon _in there? What if he picks that? Will it mean something? And if he picks one of the others, would that mean he’s not interested? Fuck’s sake! I’m an adult. Why can’t I handle this?_

The sound of the door being pushed open yanks Harry out of his cogitation and he swiftly stands upright, putting one hand on the wine bottle he’s supposed to be retrieving as Draco pokes his head in.

“I’ve chosen a film, but I seem to be lacking company and wine.” Draco’s grey eyes shift from teasing to concerned as he takes in Harry’s expression. “Are you all right, Harry?”

“I’m fine.” Harry chastises himself for panicking and schools his features into what he hopes is a calm smile as he heads for the door, wine in hand. “Let’s go, then. What have you chosen for us?”

Draco strides to the coffee table and picks up the DVDs, handing one to Harry. “I thought this sounded good. Shall I put the others back on the shelf?

Harry lets his eyes shift down to the case in his hand. _Love, Simon. Well, ok then. Now I have to figure out what this means._ Harry swallows. “That’d be great; I’ll just pop this in the player.” Harry puts the wine down on the table and busies himself with the DVD player while Draco shelves the movies.

“You mentioned Granger helped you set up your television to work around magic, do you think she could be persuaded to ward one of these for my flat too?” Draco asks, gesturing to Harry’s telly. He sinks back onto the couch, more towards the middle this time, and reaches for the wine, topping off both their glasses.

Picking up the remote, Harry settles more towards the middle and presses play. “I’m sure she would. I’ll ask her when I talk to her next.” He pulls the popcorn bowl onto the couch between them.

“I’d appreciate that,” Draco says, reaching into the bowl and turning his attention to the telly. Harry lazily waves a hand and dims the lights as Simon begins narrating the opening scene.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sent: Are you awake? I’m a bit of a mess._

**Received: Of course I’m awake, Harry. Are you all right?**

_Sent: Physically fine. Mentally, not so much._

**Received: Oh dear. Shall I come through?**

_Sent: Please? I’ll make breakfast._

**Received: Give me 15 minutes. And don’t forget to open your Floo!**

_Sent: Pancakes?_

**Received: Yes, please.**

Harry is setting a heaping plate of pancakes on the table when he hears the Floo activate. “In the kitchen,” he calls, summoning the syrup and a bowl of fresh berries.

“This smells wonderful,” Hermione says, stepping to Harry for a hug. He breathes deeply, comforted by the floral scent of her shampoo that hasn’t changed since they were kids, and holds her close for a moment. She has been his only constant for all these years and having her around grounds him.

Releasing Hermione, Harry gestures to the table and she settles herself in a chair.

“Help yourself. Would you like pumpkin juice?” Harry asks, taking a seat across from her.

“Sure.”

Hermione rolls her eyes as Harry wordlessly summons the pumpkin juice from the cooling cupboard. They sit in easy silence as they both fill their plates, Hermione smothering her pancakes in berries and Harry drowning his in syrup. 

Hermione looks away from her breakfast and Harry watches her scrutinise his expression carefully. “Now, what on earth has got you so worked up? You’re never awake this early on a Saturday.”

Keeping his eyes focused on his plate, Harry exhales heavily. “I think I might have feelings for someone.” Harry chances a quick look at Hermione, just in time to see her eyes widen slightly.

“Romantic feelings?” Hermione asks, voice carefully controlled and crisply enunciated.

“Yeah.” Harry chuckles softly. _That’s her information gathering voice. Here we go._ _Some things will never change._

“Is this a problem?” she pries gently.

“That’s what I don’t know,” Harry says, wincing when he’s unable to hide the weariness in his voice. “I wish I knew. It’s all I’ve thought about since last night and— _”_

“Harry!” Hermione sighs, exasperation creeping into her tone. “Why don’t you start at the beginning of whatever is going on between you and…well, let’s start there. What’s her name?” She folds her hands on the table and Harry is happy to see her gentle expression. _What would I do without Hermione?_

“It’s not a her,” Harry confesses, averting his eyes for just a moment before looking back at his best friend.

“Well that’s something,” she says with some satisfaction. She waves her hand in a rolling, dismissive gesture. “ _His_ name, then.”

“You don’t care it’s a man?” Harry looks intently at Hermione, scanning her face for any sign of unease.

“Harry. How long have I known you’re bisexual?!? Over twenty years. _Twenty years!_ Of course, I don’t care.” Hermione rolls her eyes emphatically. “Would you stop beating around the proverbial bush and spit it out?”

Harry lowers his gaze, keeping his eyes firmly on his nearly empty plate. “It’s Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione’s silence rings in his ears. _Okay, there is it. It’s out there. Why isn’t she saying anything?_ Harry finally lifts his chin to look at Hermione, who has her eyebrows raised with a very amused smirk on her face. _Well, that’s unexpected_.

“What?!? What does that face mean??” he blurts.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione bursts out laughing, no longer able to hold it together. "You thought I'd be upset?"

“Not upset, but I didn’t expect you to laugh at me!” Harry tries to appear affronted, but all he can feel is relief. He needs Hermione and he wants Draco, and he desperately doesn’t want to have to choose between the two.

His exasperated tone clearly has no impact, because Hermione’s eyes are dancing with mirth. “For someone so open about…well…everything, you’re acting awfully shy about this. It’s amusing!”

“I’m so glad I can be the source of your entertainment this morning,” Harry says, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“But seriously, Harry, what’s the actual issue here?” The laughter is gone from Hermione’s face and she’s regarding Harry with a scrupulous expression. “Because we both know it’s not you being interested in a man, and I’m pretty sure we both know it’s not that the man in question is Draco Malfoy.”

“I haven’t had to worry about a new romantic situation in almost twenty years, Hermione.” Harry’s hands are in his hair as he tries to sort his emotions. “I’m not sure I remember how to do this. And I don’t even know if he’s actually interested in me, or if he’s just being kind. Which is a whole new kind of weird to deal with!”

Hermione’s face shifts to a soft smile. “How did this start?”

“I was on the platform after I put the kids on the train to Hogwarts. I guess I’d been standing there a while.” Harry shrugs one shoulder. “He came up and checked on me, then asked me for a cup of tea.

“And you went?” Hermione asks leadingly.

“I did. We ended up sitting in a Muggle coffee shop for hours, just talking.” Harry smiles at the memory. “It turns out Albus has been really worried about me being home by myself and had been upset in front of Scorpius. Scorpius had asked Draco to check on me.”

“So you’re not sure if he has any romantic intentions because Scorpius asked him to check on you?” Hermione’s expression turns pensive, clearly suspecting she’s missing something. Her fingers drum lightly on the table as she mulls over this new information.

“Well, not just that,” Harry admits somewhat sheepishly. “He owled me yesterday and asked if I wanted to get dinner.”

The drumming stops and Hermione's brown eyes glimmer intensely. “Like a date?”

“I don’t think so.” Harry runs his fingers through his hair again and sighs. “And we didn’t go get dinner. He came over here instead. I cooked.” He gestures vaguely towards the hob before moving his hands back into his unruly locks.

“He came over here?” Hermione’s voice is back to carefully controlled. She reaches over and gently tugs at one of his arms, urging him to look at her and stop pulling at his curls, now speckled with grey.

Harry obediently lowers his hands and nods. “Yeah.”

“How did that go?” The drumming is back. Harry can’t help but smile. His best friend’s relentless pursuit of knowledge extends to his love life too, evidently.

“He brought wine. He kept me company in the kitchen while I got dinner into the oven.” Harry’s hands head for his hair again, but he catches himself this time and forces them into his lap. He chews his bottom lip, rolling over memories from the previous night and trying to decide how to explain them.

“But he did this thing when I asked him to taste the sauce. Instead of just taking the spoon, he put his hand over mine and then put the spoon in his mouth.” Harry feels his face flush and he can’t keep the smile off his face. “He said it was perfect and that he wouldn’t change a thing, but the way he said it, I’m not sure if he meant the sauce or _me_.”

Hermione looks quite astonished as she digests that bit of information. “That certainly sounds like he might be interested.”

“Yeah, but then he just sat back down and—” Harry flings his hands open “—nothing.”

“That was it? For the entire night?” Hermione prods.

“Well, no. We took a walk down to the pitch when dinner was in the oven. I gave him a locker and he said we should play a Seekers’ game next time. Turns out he’s a Puddlemere supporter, too.” Harry chuckles again. “And we chatted over dinner. He’s quite easy to talk to. He truly understands what it’s like being a single father. I’ve never had someone who really gets that, you know?”

“That’s something you definitely have lacked, someone who can relate to that intimately.” She smiles supportively. “Go on.”

“We also talked about the kids and about how I’m trying to figure out what to do with myself, now that Lily has gone to Hogwarts.” Harry frowns slightly, thinking about his empty house. “He encouraged me to find something that gives me purpose and he didn’t push me towards what people would expect. I appreciated that.”

“It sounds like you had a good conversation,” Hermione states matter of factly.

“We did.” Harry suddenly feels a bit shy again. “And then he stayed for another glass of wine and we watched a movie,” he blurts. _Why am I so bashful about this?? Adults are allowed to find other available adults attractive!_

Hermione’s eyebrows lift. “Oh? What did you watch?”

“I let him pick. He picked _Love, Simon_ , which seemed like…an interesting choice. I made popcorn and we had more wine and—” Harry stops abruptly as his memory is jogged. “Oh! He wants to know if you’ll help him ward a telly for his flat.”

Confusion is written all over Hermione’s face. “He what?”

“We’d talked about you and I both having tellies and mobiles over dinner,” Harry explains, smiling at Hermione’s expression. “He asked me if I thought you’d be willing to ward a telly for him. I told him I’d ask.”

“I’m sure we can figure that out,” Hermione says almost dismissively. “How was the movie?”

“I’ve seen it before, and honestly I was kind of on edge. I was trying to figure out how he feels and I just couldn’t be sure.” Harry puts his elbows on the table with a dull thud and his head in his hands once again. “I feel like I’m sixteen again, Hermione. This is ridiculous.”

Hermione sighs. “Just say it, Harry. We’ll figure it out from there.” She smiles softly. “And honestly, you _haven’t_ had to worry about this since you _were_ a teenager.”

Head still in his hands, Harry takes a deep breath and lets it out. He looks up at Hermione and smiles wryly. “There was a lot of hand-brushing in the popcorn bowl. By the end, we were on opposite ends of the couch but our feet were touching in the middle.”

Soft laughter escapes Hermione’s mouth and she shakes her head. “And he went home after that?”

“Yeah. It was after midnight by then. But when he left, I saw him out and there was this odd moment. We just looked at each other and we were standing quite close in the entry.” Harry loses himself in the memory for just a second. “I really thought he might kiss me, but then he just put a hand on my shoulder and thanked me for a wonderful evening and…left.” Harry’s shoulders fall, remembering that weird empty feeling he’d had when the door had clicked shut behind Draco.

“Hmm,” Hermione’s brow is furrowed and one hand is twirling the ends of her curls idly. “Has he ever dated anyone seriously?”

“No, not since Astoria,” Harry says, shaking his head. “And they didn’t really date. It was an arranged marriage for an heir, not a romantic situation.”

Hermione’s expression is pensive. “Are you sure _he_ knows _you_ are interested?”

Harry thinks through his last two encounters with Draco. _Have I been obvious? Have I given him a reason to think I’m_ not _interested?_

“I don’t know. I’ve told him I like the man he has become. We talked through all the war shite at our first tea, apologies and forgiveness were given. But I haven’t been…overly flirtatious?”

Harry groans loudly and puts his head in his hands again. “I don’t remember how to do this. How do you do this as an actual adult?! How do _you_ handle figuring things out?” Harry fixes his eyes on Hermione.

“You know I’ve not dated much since Ron, Harry.” Hermione’s face shows a hint of pain and Harry winces, regretting his hasty question. They usually avoid this topic. “But the man has generally asked me out on a date properly. I don’t always say yes, mind you.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, concernedly. He hates that anything prevents Hermione from being fulfilled and happy, but, just like him, she’s faced some serious hurdles in life.

“Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right.” Hermione is trying to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but Harry hears the underlying pang of sadness. Harry’s heart aches for the woman who’s like a sister to him.

“Hermione…” _Should I ask her? We haven’t talked about this in years, is this really the right time to bring it up?_ Harry steels himself just a bit and decides that there’s not going to be a better moment than this. 

“Yes, Harry?” Hermione’s voice trembles the slightest bit as she locks eyes with him. 

Harry reaches across the table and covers one of Hermione’s hands with his own. “Do you still miss Ron?”

There’s a pregnant pause while Hermione appears to gather herself.

“I still miss the Ron I thought I knew. But he wanted me to choose between you and his family, Harry, and that wasn’t okay.” Hermione’s eyes take on a bit of a shine. “I know it was his grief. He never fully processed losing Fred, and he was much closer to Ginny. But that doesn’t make it ok.”

Harry’s heart aches for his friend, and he squeezes her hand lightly. Harry can see the pain on Hermione's face and can't help but feel partially responsible, or maybe even guilty for its presence. “Do you ever regret telling him you wouldn’t choose?”

“I don’t. And he made the choice to break our engagement over it, not I.” Hermione sighs deeply.

“I still miss him— the old him,” Harry confesses. “I’ve thought about reaching out now that the kids are all off at Hogwarts. Just to see if he wants to talk.”

“I’ve thought about it, too, but I know I’m not ready yet.” Hermione hesitates before seeming to decide to go on. “But as silly as it sounds, I’m too scared to do it alone.”

“Maybe — someday — when we’re both ready, we can do it together?” Harry suggests hopefully.

Hermione turns her hand to grip Harry’s and squeeze it lightly. “I’d like that a lot. I’ve always hoped he’d come around.”

* * *

_It’s not as if I have to work for the paycheck._ Harry leafs through the Sunday morning Daily Prophet, growing increasingly frustrated as he finds nothing in the Situation Vacant ads that appeals to him. _I could volunteer. I could work part-time. I want something that allows me to still spend summers and holidays with the kids. I just don’t know where to start._

Sighing, Harry gives up and pulls a blank parchment towards him. _Might as well address where my mind is if I can’t get anything else done._ Rolling his eyes at himself, he picks up his quill and begins to write.

*

_Draco,_

_I spoke with Hermione yesterday. She’s willing to help you ward a telly for your flat. Once you’ve chosen one, we can arrange a time for her to come place the wards and spell it to work on magic. Just let me know!_

_Harry_

*

He ties the letter to Edgar, the great horned owl he’d adopted from the Wizarding Owl rescue several years ago. “You can wait for an answer if he has one,” Harry tells the bird, before standing, stretching, and heading for the shower. _I might as well go run some errands if I can’t manage to do anything else productive._

He’s just drying off from his shower when Edgar returns, parchment tied to his leg. Harry tucks his towel around his waist and collects the parchment, sending Edgar off to the perch.

*

_Harry,_

_Thank you for talking to Granger. Unfortunately, I’ve no idea what I’m looking for when choosing a television. Would you be willing to assist me with selecting one?_

_Draco_

*

Unable to keep from grinning, Harry pulls on some clothes before making his way to the Floo. Kneeling on the cold stone, he tosses in some powder and calls out “Malfoy Residence, London”. Pushing his head into the flames, he waits for Draco to answer.

Harry’s head suddenly spins as the connection opens and he closes his eyes as he waits for everything to settle. Opening his eyes, he’s met with Draco’s smiling face. And — _oh sweet Merlin_ — his bare chest. Draco is kneeling in front of the Floo in nothing but a pair of joggers.

“Good morning, Harry. I wasn’t expecting to see you in the fire.”

“Er, sorry about that.” Harry feels his face warm and hopes Draco blames it on the Floo connection instead of Harry’s embarrassment. _Or arousal,_ his brain unhelpfully provides.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Draco grins and Harry’s heart flutters at the sight. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Harry smiles in return. “I was actually about to go run some errands around town when I got your reply. I wondered if you wanted to go look at televisions today?”

“Of course. Do you want to come through?” Draco gestures to his sitting room, “I’ll need to make myself presentable, but I can be ready to go in about twenty minutes.”

“Sure. Let me finish getting myself together and I’ll be right over.” Harry’s heart soars at the thought of spending more time with Draco. _You’re absolutely ridiculous, Potter. Like a teenage witch._

“Excellent. I’ll open the Floo for you. I’ll be out as soon as I’m ready.” Draco flashes another smile and moves to stand up.

Harry draws his head out of the fire. _Sweet Godric Gryffindor. I knew Draco was fit, but Merlin_. Heading for his bedroom, Harry starts thinking about what he can change into so he won’t look scruffy next to Draco, who is always impeccably dressed.

He settles on a pair of snug-fitting dark denims and a dark green fitted jumper over a dress shirt. Stripping off what he has on and sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry groans. He’s still half-hard from seeing Draco shirtless. _How am I going to get through a shopping trip next to him if all I can think about is whether or not he can tell I’m turned on by the sight of him?_

Sighing in resignation, Harry reaches into his bedside table and retrieves a phial of lubricating potion. He shoves down his pants, adds a couple of drops to his palm, and takes himself in hand. Eyes closed, he brings the image of Draco to mind — his smile, his face, his bare chest —- and he’s fully hard in just a couple of strokes.

Harry moans and lays back on the bed. It’s not like he hasn’t wanked in the eleven years he’s been alone, but he hasn’t done it like this — with someone in mind. He envisions running his hands down the hard planes of Draco’s chest and pushing his fingers through Draco’s gorgeous blond hair, kissing Draco’s smirking lips. He moves his hand faster over his cock, swiping across his head and gathering the beads of precum already leaking there.

Reaching with his other hand, he drags a firm knuckle along his perineum before cupping his balls. Harry groans and adds a twist to even faster pulls, hips lifting as he fucks into his own hand. A slight tug on his balls later, Harry cries out, cumming embarrassingly quickly.

He lays there, eyes still closed, catching his breath for a moment. Draco’s smile is still in the forefront of his mind. _I wonder what he looks like after a good shag. Oh Merlin, don’t think about that. I can’t have that in my mind while we’re out. Fuck._ Harry takes a deep breath and waves his wand hand, cleaning himself and then adding a freshening charm for good measure.

A few minutes later, Harry stands in front of the bathroom sink, dressed in the clothes he’s already selected. He runs some Sleekeazy’s through his dark curls and looks in the mirror. _That’ll have to do for today._ He leans forward and examines the wrinkles developing around his eyes. _Nothing to be done about those. Now, glasses or vision charm?_ A moment later, he pulls off his glasses and lays them on the sink. Pulling his wand from his back pocket, he carefully spells his eyes to clear his vision and shudders. _Damn, I hate the way that spell feels when the magic works_.

Checking the mirror again, he decides it was worth it. His eyes look bright green next to his caramel skin, brought out by the jumper he’s put on. As a bonus, it detracts from the fact that his hair always looks like a bit of a rat’s nest. He pats his pockets. _All right. Wand, Gringotts pouch, debit card, mobile._ _Off I go._

* * *

Harry is sitting on Draco’s couch tapping out a text to Hermione when he hears Draco come down the stairs. Looking up, he takes a moment to rake his eyes over Draco’s handsome form. He’s dressed impeccably as always, in charcoal tailored trousers and a cornflower blue dress shirt.

“Ready to go, then?” Harry pushes himself to his feet and smiles at Draco.

Harry sees Draco’s eyes flick down his body for the briefest of seconds as he returns the smile. “Let me just grab my jacket.”

Harry shrugs into his leather jacket as Draco pulls his own jacket from the coat closet. “There’s an Apparition point not too far from Currys.”

“Currys?” Draco asks with a deep frown.

“Oh, yeah… Muggle shop that has all kinds of electronics,” Harry replies, having forgotten that Draco may not be familiar with the chain of stores.

“Why in Merlin’s name would you call your electronics shop the same thing as an Indian dish?” Draco chuckles. “Muggles are weird.”

“Agreed,” Harry smiles. “Would you like to Side-Along, or would you rather walk?”

“Would you mind walking? It’s rather nice out, and I’d like to enjoy the sunshine.”

“I wouldn’t mind in the least.” Harry follows Draco to the front door of the Malfoys’ penthouse. Draco opens the door and ushers Harry though, placing his hand on the small of Harry’s back for a fleeting moment. Heat skitters up Harry’s spine at the touch. 

Draco turns and waves his wand quickly over the closed door, setting his wards. “Would you like to pick up coffee? There’s a Costa just around the corner.”

“Caffeine is always welcome.” Harry chuckles. “I do seem to require less of it now that the kids are off at school.”

Harry inhales deeply as Draco ushers him into the coffee shop. 

“What’ll you have, Potter?” Draco gestures Harry forward as they step to the register.

“Caramel Cortado, please.” Harry smiles at the barista and reaches for his wallet. Draco’s hand on his arm makes him pause.

“I’ll get it.” Draco’s touch and subsequent easy smile give Harry butterflies in his stomach. “You’re helping me out today.”

“Oh…” Harry stutters and then immediately feels his cheeks heat. “Thank you; it would be much appreciated.” He steps back to allow Draco to order and pay for their drinks.

Coffee securely in hand, Draco and Harry stroll towards Currys, enjoying the warmth from the coffee and easy conversation. Harry can’t help but steal looks at his handsome company, and the shop appears in front of them more quickly than Harry would like. He leads Draco to a massive display of televisions. Draco studies them intently for a moment and then looks to Harry.

“I know nothing about selecting a television. What is it that I’m looking for, exactly?”

Harry sips his coffee and decides a simple explanation is better. Hermione can ward just about anything, regardless of features. “It really just depends on if it will fit in the space where you want to put it.”

“Oh, it’ll fit in the space I want to put it, all right” Draco mutters quietly, eyes glimmering mischievously.

Harry sputters and knows his face must be the colour of a fire engine. He stares at Draco, mouth hanging open just a bit.

Draco winks at him and turns back to the television display. “I plan to put the television on the mantle above the fireplace, much like yours is set up,” he says, as if his previous comment had never happened.

“Good. Yeah, that’ll be good.” Harry stutters, still desperately trying to process what just happened. _He’s flirting with me, right? Is that flirting?_ _Bloody hell, I’m awful at this._

After several minutes of pondering and discussion, Draco seems to have made up his mind. Harry pulls his mobile out of his pocket. “Let me just text Hermione and make sure this brand isn’t overly complicated to ward. She says some are easier than others.” Harry looks to his phone as he quickly sends Hermione a text. “She’ll probably respond in a minute or two.”

“Do you text a lot?” Draco eyes Harry’s mobile with interest.

Harry offers his mobile to Draco, which he takes and begins to examine closely. Harry smiles at his eagerness. “With friends who have mobiles, yes. It’s much quicker than owling and more convenient than the Floo. Plus,” Harry gestures around them, “I spend a lot of time in Muggle areas. Helps me avoid the press.”

“Do those have to be warded, as well?” Draco hands Harry’s device back.

“Not necessarily.” Harry shakes his head. “You’ll have trouble using it in magic spaces if it’s not, but magic won’t hurt it. They’re much easier to ward than a telly, though. I warded mine and the boys’ myself after Hermione showed me how.”

“Scorpius has been asking for one for years at this point. He claims it will help him keep in touch with me, even though they’re not permitted at Hogwarts.” Draco rolls his eyes. “I have some co-workers who use them often, as well.”

“Albus and James both got one the summer after their first year. They use them to keep in touch with school friends over holidays.” Harry thinks for a moment. “I’ll probably get Lily one at Christmas.”

Draco’s face is pensive. “Would you help me ward one if I pick one out today? Maybe one for Scorpius, also?”

Harry blinks in surprise. He hadn’t expected Draco to embrace this much Muggle technology at once. “Sure! We can do that after we finish here.” Harry’s phone buzzes in his hand and he glances down. “Hermione says that one will work.” Harry smiles at Draco, who looks pleased at the news.

“Tell her ‘thank you’ for me, please. I’ll go arrange for it to be delivered.” Draco steps away towards the electronics counter to purchase his telly. Harry’s gaze lingers on Draco’s retreating form for several seconds, then his fingers move furiously over his phone the instant Draco steps away.

_Sent: Draco says thank you. He wants me to help him get a mobile now. I think he’s flirting with me._

**Received: Are you flirting back?**

_Sent: Not really?_

**Received. Harry. If you want him to know you’re interested, FLIRT BACK.**

_Sent: He’s ready to go. I’ll try!_

Harry slips his mobile back in his pocket as Draco strides purposefully back to him, a satisfied smile on his face.

“All set, then?”

“Yes. They’ll deliver it to the Muggle entrance of my building this afternoon. My doorman will retrieve it and bring it up,” Draco explains as they head for the phones.

“Your building has a Muggle entrance?”

“Yes, the building is kind of like the Leaky. One side faces a Muggle area and the other faces a Wizarding neighbourhood.” Draco gestures to either side as he explains. “If we need something delivered from a Muggle establishment, we have a faux apartment there. The Muggle-side’s doorman is a Squib, so he puts the package in the faux apartment and our doorman comes in from the other side to retrieve it.”

“That’s quite brilliant, actually.” Harry is impressed with how skillfully the magical community can be camouflaged that close to the Muggle community.

“I don’t use the service much,” Draco says casually. “It’s not that I don’t go into Muggle areas, I do quite often. But I usually don’t purchase something that would need to be delivered.” Draco hesitates before continuing, his voice taking on a gentler tone Harry can’t quite interpret. “I’ve never had someone I trusted to help me navigate something like purchasing a television or a mobile that would need to be adjusted to work with magic.”

Harry angles his head to look at Draco and tries not to look overly maudlin. “I’m glad I can be that person.”

“Me, too.” Draco lips twist into a satisfied smile.

Thirty minutes later, Draco is the proud owner of two new iPhones and Harry is glowering at the twenty-something clerk who has been flirting with Draco the entire time he’s been helping them.

Draco turns from the register and startles when he sees the look on Harry’s face.

“Harry? Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Harry states firmly, even though he knows his voice clearly says the opposite. He shoots another glare at the clerk over Draco’s shoulder.

Draco stifles a laugh. “Come on, let me take you to lunch.”

“Lunch would be great.” Feeling Draco’s hand on the small of his back, Harry shoots a Malfoy-worthy smirk at the clerk and allows himself to be gently guided to the exit. He relaxes with the soft pressure from Draco and by the time they are outside, Harry’s much calmer. 

They pause just outside the door and Draco sweeps his gaze over Harry, studying his face carefully. Harry squirms slightly under the scrutiny, but Draco seems to have found whatever he was looking for and nods. “There's a fantastic little Indian restaurant just past my building. Is that an acceptable lunch option?”

“A good curry sounds fantastic. I’m pretty much always game for Indian food.” Harry pauses. “ _Good_ Indian food, that is.”

“Well, I find it to be more than satisfactory. We will see if your refined palate agrees.” Draco’s voice has a teasing tone as he gestures grandly in front of them, raising his eyebrows at Harry and smiling. “Shall we?”

“Wanker,” Harry retorts as they set off down the sidewalk. Draco's subsequent laughter is music to his ears.

They fall into step together, Harry smiling when their hands brush together. He desperately wants to reach out and take Draco’s hand; to feel those pale slender fingers laced with his. He doesn’t, of course, because he’s still not quite sure what all of this is. But he sure wants to. 

“Have you made any progress on figuring out how you’d like to fill your time?” Draco asks as they cross the street.

“I haven’t. I sat and stared at the Prophet for the better part of an hour this morning.” Harry shrugs and scoffs at himself. “Then I used the parchment I had intended for a list to write to you, instead.”

“So you’re using me for procrastination?” Mock offence fills Draco’s voice but his expression is almost playful when Harry turns his head for a glance.

“Something like that.” Harry laughs. If only Draco knew how much he was the catalyst for Harry’s procrastination. “But writing to you was far more interesting than anything I found in the Prophet today.” Harry sobers and sighs softly.

“You’ll figure it out, there’s no rush. You and I both know there’s more in your vaults that you and your kids could ever spend in your lifetimes.” Draco pauses thoughtfully. “What, exactly, are you looking for when trying to select something?”

“I want something that’s meaningful to me,” Harry says emphatically. This much he _does_ know and is firmly committed to. “Something that lets me work to make life better in one aspect or another for someone else. I _don’t_ want to be someone’s poster boy or public figure.” Harry wrinkles his nose.

“I can certainly understand why you’d be concerned about being exploited like that.” Draco sounds appreciative of Harry’s staunch opposition to being nothing but an icon. “What do you mean _better in some aspect_?”

“Like…I grew up without my parents, so maybe making life better for orphaned children. My kids don’t have their mother so maybe doing something to benefit single or widowed parents. Harry pauses and thinks. It’s so hard to remember sometimes, what used to make him, _him_. “Or something involving protection against Dark Magic that doesn’t put me in danger; something different than the Aurors.”

“Hmmm,” Draco intones thoughtfully. Several moments of silence pass before he speaks again. “Would you consider working at CRMM?”

“I'm not sure I’d have the right skill set for working with rare magical maladies. I’m not as smart as you or Hermione,” Harry states quickly. He’s always been a hard worker, not necessarily naturally smart.

“You’re plenty intelligent, Harry. Just because you weren’t a total swot in school doesn’t mean you aren’t smart and capable.”

Harry arches an eyebrow at Draco. “Are you calling Hermione a swot? Or are you calling yourself a swot?”

Draco laughs. “Both! And you know it!” He shakes his head. “But seriously. We have a new department that’s working specifically on long-term side effects from Dark Magic. You would have an exceptional skill set for that.” Draco glances at Harry.

Harry’s interest is piqued. He really did enjoy being an Auror and learning how to defend against and circumvent Dark Magic. “Go on.”

“We have found that Dark Magic, especially Dark Magic cast on witches before they hit puberty, can cause unseen damage that can manifest later in life.” Draco’s voice takes on something reminiscent of Hermione’s lecture tones, but alarm bells are ringing in Harry’s head. “We are trying to learn to seek and find that damage so it can be repaired and prevent those issues.”

Harry feels his throat tighten and he takes a shuddering breath. His legs feel like lead and his stride falters. He is aware he’s falling behind Draco but his voice is stuck somewhere in his throat and he can’t say anything.

Draco quickly realises Harry isn’t beside him, though, and spins around. “Harry?”

Harry stares blankly back at him, hearing Draco’s earlier words on repeat. _Damage can manifest later in life. Damage can manifest later in life_. Draco steps towards him, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. His grey eyes are clouded with concern. “You’ve gone dreadfully pale. Harry, what’s the matter?” He guides Harry to a nearby bench and they sit together. The cool temperature of the hard metal seeps through Harry’s jacket and jumper, helping to quell the heat rising inside him. He finally takes a heaving breath, but he still can’t look at Draco.

“You said exposure to Dark Magic in childhood can cause hidden damage,” Harry utters in a soft, haunted voice.

Draco furrows his brow before he answers and Harry can hear the effort to keep an even tone in his voice. “Yes. Not all exposure seems to cause it. Usually long term exposure or short but very intense exposure. And for whatever reason, it’s much more prevalent in witches.”

This was what Harry had been afraid of. He clenches his fists loosely and continues, needing confirmation of his suspicions. “Would being possessed by a dark wizard regularly over the course of several months potentially cause damage?”

“It’s possible, yes.” Draco’s tone is careful and he is clearly confused.

“Could it damage the magical core?” Harry’s words are almost biting as he forces the words out.

“Yes. That’s one of the unseen places we’ve only learned to scan and detect damage in recently. Really only in the last 4-5 years.” Draco is clearly forcing his voice to remain steady but Harry still can’t look at him.

“Evil motherfucker couldn’t even leave me alone after he died.” Harry snarls darkly.

“Excuse me?” Draco’s voice is hesitantly strained and quite obviously confused.

Harry closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath of crisp autumn air, holding it for several seconds before letting it out. Opening his eyes, he finally turns towards Draco.

“Sorry. That just hit me sort of hard.”

“I'm afraid I don’t understand.” The caring and sincerity in Draco’s eyes and voice comfort Harry enough to allow his body to relax, just a bit. He untwists his hands and lays them on his knees, focusing on Draco.

“Our second year of Hogwarts, Ginny’s first year, she was regularly possessed by Voldemort through a diary that was cursed by some very Dark Magic.” Harry purposefully omits the fact that Draco’s father was the one who gave Ginny the diary. He’s not even sure if Draco knows that particular bit of information, and he’s certainly not going to tell him now. “They had no explanation when Ginny’s core haemorrhaged after Lily was born. All the testing for known pregnancy-related core issues was negative.”

Harry lifts one hand to run through his hair and exhales heavily again. “And now, based on what you said, it sounds like Voldemort managed to kill my wife, even after I’d gotten rid of him.”

Draco’s eyes widen in absolute horror and he covers one of Harry’s hands with his own as his words come tumbling out. “Fuck, Harry. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I’d never have brought it up so casually if I’d known. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Draco’s eyes have turned bright with what Harry suspects is unshed tears. Harry places his free hand over the top of Draco’s hand. “I know. You couldn’t have known. It just kind of hit me like a bludger when I put it all together.” Harry is torn between being angry at Voldemort and his endless cruelty and wanting to forge ahead and make sure no one else suffers the same fate as Ginny.

“I can only imagine. I really am sorry, Harry.” There’s absolute anguish on Draco’s face and in his voice. “I just thought the new department sounded like something you might find fulfilling based on what you said about protection against Dark Magic.”

“You’re not wrong. It _does_ sound like something that would appeal to me.” Harry exhales heavily. “It just seems to have a more personal meaning, as well.”

Draco smiles ruefully. “Very much so. I’m sorry.”

“Draco, you did nothing wrong. It just caught me off-guard.” Harry squeezes Draco’s hand lightly. “Come on, then. Let’s head for that curry you promised me.”

They move to stand and, even as his mind is racing with what he’s just learned, Harry realises he misses the touch of Draco’s hand as soon as it’s withdrawn. He also realises just how comforting he’s finding Draco’s presence in this suddenly mental upheaval.

Harry takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He really _is_ interested in the job Draco described, and Draco really does seem to think Harry would be capable of doing it.

“Do you really think I’d be able to help with the project at CRMM? Do you think they’d hire me?”

“I do.” Draco insists. “We specifically need witches and wizards skilled in Defence Against the Dark Arts to pick apart the web of magic found in these maladies and explore counter-curses.”

“Really?” Harry’s previous intrigue returns and he begins to think he might have found something promising to do, all thanks to Draco. “That sounds fascinating, actually.”

“You were the first person I thought of when my boss mentioned they were ready to hire in a hybrid of Dark Magic experts and Curse-Breakers,” Draco says, making warmth pool in Harry’s belly. Knowing Draco thinks that highly of him is a little shocking. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d be interested until you mentioned working with Dark Magic today.”

“I’m flattered, Draco, really,” Harry says earnestly. “Can I think about it?”

“Absolutely. Take whatever time you need. They do plan to start the interview process this coming week, but it will be ongoing as they get the department running.” Draco pauses to gaze in the window of the confectioner’s shop as they pass before looking Harry in the eye. “I really do think you’d be absolutely perfect for the job. Plus, they’re very flexible with schedules, and I know you wanted to be able to have holidays and summers with your kids.”

Harry can’t quite wrap his brain around how much of their previous conversations Draco has taken to heart. He’s repeating details Harry hasn’t mentioned since the first time they went to tea.

“Yeah. That is important to me.”

* * *

Harry sinks down on the couch and exhales. Despite the difficult revelation about what might have caused Ginny’s core to haemorrhage, he’s had a very enjoyable day with Draco. Unfortunately, he’s now more confused about what exactly is transpiring between them than he was before.

After Draco had treated him to lunch, he’d helped ward the man’s phone before they parted ways outside the restaurant. Harry had been a bit shocked when Draco had affectionately squeezed his hand while thanking him for all his help. Harry smiles now, remembering the feeling of warmth that filled him at Draco’s simple touch.

Hermione’s voice plays in his head. _“Harry. If you want him to know you’re interested, FLIRT BACK.”_

Harry picks up his phone.

 _Sent: I had a really good time today. Thank you again for coffee and lunch, and thank you for spending your morning with me._ _I enjoy your company._

* * *

Harry’s eyes fly open. Panting hard, he turns his head slowly and looks to the other side of his bed. Empty.

_A dream. It was a dream._

He struggles to rein in his breathing before sighing softly. It may have been a dream, but his cock certainly missed the memo. Fully hard and pulsing, it is begging for the attention it had been receiving in dreamland. Harry shimmies out of his boxers and begins to stroke himself lightly.

He lets his mind wander to what he can remember of the dream he’d suddenly been pulled from. He and Draco, in bed, naked and sweaty. Draco’s hand wrapped around him. Draco’s fingers…

_Ah, fuck it._

Harry reaches for his bedside table and pulls on the bottom drawer, warded to open only at his touch. He withdraws a phial of lube and coats the fingers of one hand and the palm of the other.

Slowly stroking his cock, he pulls one knee up and reaches behind himself. He rubs one lubed finger over his entrance and gasps at the sensation. He’s not done this in a very long time and had forgotten just how good it feels.

One fingertip slides in and Harry's mind goes back to the recollection of Draco's slender digit nudging inside him in his dream. Harry moves his finger in sync with his imagined lover's, pulling back out just to move in deeper again.

Several minutes later, his cock is leaking and he has two fingers pressing inside himself, and it’s _still_ not enough to match the sensations in his dream. He hesitates, wondering if he should be embarrassed at what he’s thinking about doing, even though he’s alone in his house in the privacy of his own bedroom.

“Oh Draco, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he whispers breathily, deciding to do it anyway. _Merlin, I want him so much._

Harry reaches for the warded drawer again and pulls out a long, thick, very realistic dildo.

The dildo shines as he coats it generously with lube, touching the bottom of the base to activate the built-in charms. He lets go and it hovers next to him.

Returning his fingers to his hole again, he neglects his throbbing erection and focuses on stretching himself as open as he can before he rolls over to his stomach. Getting on his knees, he cants his arse in the air and reaches up behind himself to grasp the waiting dildo, guiding the large blunt head to his entrance.

“ _Intrabit Lente,”_ he whispers, releasing the dildo and pillowing his head on his arms. A guttural moan is wrenched from his core as the head breaches his entrance.

Agonisingly slowly, Harry is being filled. He closes his eyes and gives himself over to the fantasy from his dreams.

“Oh, Draco.” 

Harry’s quiet lust-filled voice is the only sound in the room. He presses his arse back, welcoming the dildo’s stretch and the slight burn that accompanies it.

“Deeper. Deeper, Draco. I want you all the way inside me,” he whispers to no one.

The flared base of the dildo, designed to look and feel like heavy balls, brushes his arse.

“ _Manere,”_ he whispers, needing a moment to adjust. His own breathing is startlingly loud as he moves slightly, pushing against the dildo as he wishes fervently it was Draco’s cock instead. He rocks back and forth just a little, the discomfort slowly giving way to the blissful feeling of being completely filled. “ _Mico_ ,” he mutters, activating the vibration charm.

“Oh Merlin, Draco, you feel so good inside me,” he murmurs. An uttered “ _Tardis Moveri_ ” sets the dildo in motion, withdrawing until the head stretches at his rim before it unhurriedly sinks back in. Harry gasps as the head brushes his prostate, momentarily seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Yes. Yes. Just like that. Godric, this feels amazing.” Harry’s voice is low and gravelly. He presses his arse back to meet the slow strokes.

“ _Citius_.” He mutters and the pace accelerates. Harry lets a loud moan escape and his breath quickens further. A squelching sound replaces the silence of the room as his hole greedily accepts the repeated intrusion of the long, thick dildo.

“Fuck, yes. So good!” Harry gasps loudly. “More, I need more! _Altius_!” he nearly screams and the dildo obediently goes deeper. Harry both feels and hears the balls at the base of the dildo smacking against his arse.

Hands fisted in the sheets, Harry eagerly pushes back to meet each deep thrust. “Faster! _Citius_! Faster!” he begs, nearly sobbing as the dildo pounds his prostate with every stroke.

His balls are drawing up and tightening and Harry feels his orgasm rising in his belly. “ _Durior_ ” he chokes out, and the dildo pounds harder.

“Yes, Draco. I’m so close. I’m so close,” Harry pants, his body strung as tight as a cord. Harry chants, “Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin,” like a prayer.

He tips over the edge and everything happens at once. His cock spurts thick white streams on the sheets, his ears are ringing, he feels like he’s free-falling, and he’s shouting Draco’s name. The dildo keeps going, wrenching every bit of Harry’s orgasm from him.

“ _Cessare_.” Harry manages to spit out and the dildo stops moving, still deep inside him.

His breath finally stops coming in gasps and he reaches behind himself, wincing as he eases the dildo out of his arse. _Fuck, I’m going to be sore tomorrow. It’s been years since I’ve had something this thick inside me._ He sets the dildo and the lube on his nightstand, spells his bed and himself clean with a wave of his hand, and gives in to sleep on the waves of his post-orgasmic euphoria.


	4. Chapter 4

“I look pretty good,” Harry says to his reflection. He’s dressed in the impeccably tailored outfit Draco helped him pick out when they went shopping earlier in the week; charcoal trousers and waistcoat over a dark wine-coloured dress shirt.

Having secured the interview with the Center for Rare Magical Maladies for Thursday, Harry had stood in front of his wardrobe and had a minor freak out. Save for the annual Day of Remembrance at Hogwarts, he hadn’t dressed for anything fancier than taking the kids out to dinner in eleven years. He’d rifled through his everyday trousers and denims, all of them obviously out, and he was pretty sure that his one pair of formal dress robes would also be inappropriate.

He’d sent a text and less than an hour later, Draco was leading him into an upscale clothing store. Harry had surrendered himself and given the man free reign dressing him. Draco had taken full advantage, pulling a wide variety of clothing, and Harry had obediently tried it on, enjoying the way Draco’s eyes appraised him while evaluating the clothes. Several hours later, he walked away with a sizable work-appropriate wardrobe and an outfit for the interview.

Harry runs his eyes down his body again and heads into the bathroom. He has a meeting with the new Department Head at the Center for Rare Magical Maladies in about twenty minutes and Draco had promised him these clothes were appropriate. He wonders if he’ll get to see Draco and if it would be appropriate to find him afterwards to ask him to go to lunch. Shrugging to himself, he reaches for the Sleekeazy’s and sets to work on the rest of his appearance.

Hair as controlled as it gets, vision charm in place, wand in his holster, Harry is as ready as he can be. After all, there’s nothing to be done about the fluttering nerves in his stomach. He stands in front of the fireplace and places both hands on the mantle, leaning on it for a moment and taking a deep breath. Tossing powder into the Floo, Harry calls “Center for Rare Magical Maladies” and steps into the flames.

He stumbles out into the CRMM reception room and is startled by two strong hands on his shoulders, helping him to regain his balance. His eyes shoot up and lock onto a familiar pair of smiling grey ones. Draco withdraws his hands once Harry is steady and shakes his head with a bit of a smirk.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Harry is grateful to have Draco’s presence at this moment and smiles back at him. “I have just never been very graceful using the Floo.”

“You’re never graceful anywhere, except maybe on a broom.” Draco quips, making Harry chuckle. The man steps back and Harry watches as he blatantly looks him over with an appreciative gaze. The gesture makes Harry’s stomach swoop for a much more pleasant reason than the upcoming job interview. “You look great. Are you ready?”

“I thought I was being met by the new Department Head?” Harry lilts his statement into a question.

Draco looks almost sheepish as he shrugs nonchalantly. “I offered to meet you and escort you to the office. I thought you might appreciate a familiar face.”

“I do. I’m actually quite nervous.” Harry takes a moment to look Draco over. He looks fantastic, even if he’s not as formally dressed as Harry. “I appreciate it even more since it’s you.”

A faint blush rises on Draco’s cheeks, and he shoots Harry a smile that sends his heart fluttering. “Shall we head up, then?”

Draco escorts Harry to the elevators, up three floors and down a long hallway to a set of double doors. The sign above them reads “Department of Dark Magic Damage Research.” He opens the door for Harry and steps in behind him.

“Hello, Gemma,” Draco greets the young witch sitting at the receptionist desk. “I have Mr Potter here to meet with Mr Mason.” Gemma looks up at Harry and he suddenly feels very exposed with the way she is looking at him. It’s not unfriendly, just very scrutinising. Gemma looks back up to his face and smiles.

“Good morning, Mr Malfoy. Hello, Mr Potter. Welcome to CRMM. Mr Mason is ready for you; right this way.”

Harry moves to follow the receptionist, but his hand is caught by Draco’s. His soft gasp is involuntary and he immediately turns back, meeting Draco’s gaze. Draco squeezes his hand and smiles brightly.

“Good luck. You’ll be fantastic. We’ll talk later, all right?”

Warmth floods Harry’s body. How on earth can one person make him feel so…cherished? Returning the smile, Harry takes a deep breath. 

“Thank you. Yeah, we’ll talk later.”

Draco releases his hand and Harry turns and follows Gemma down the hall, heart racing, but no longer from nerves.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry shakes Mr Mason’s hand at the door to his office.

“Thank you for coming in, Harry,” Mr Mason says enthusiastically. “I look forward to having you on our team. I’ll see you next week.”

“Thank you for the opportunity. I’m excited to get started,” Harry says in return. And he really means it. After talking with Mr Mason, Harry is certain that this job will challenge him, but he finds it fascinating. He’s optimistic it will be fulfilling for him, as well.

_It feels really different to be making this choice for me and no one else._

Harry walks down the hall towards Gemma’s desk and, while her desk is empty, the reception area is not. Draco is sitting in a chair, mobile in hand, eyes pointed down at the screen.

_He waited for me._

Harry clears his throat and Draco looks up. Warmth spreads in Harry’s chest at the grin forming on Draco’s face. Draco immediately stands and looks at Harry earnestly.

“How did it go?”

Harry grins. “We’re co-workers come Monday.”

Draco’s smile grows even bigger. “Lunch to celebrate?”

He looks genuinely excited to have Harry coming to work at the CRMM, and Harry feels his own excitement grow as Draco’s does. _This will be a good change. New friends, new job, a new phase of my life, and maybe a new love._ Harry beams just a bit with that thought.

“Sounds fantastic.”

Draco leads them to a tiny hole-in-the-wall Italian bistro, just across the street from CRMM, and they settle at a small table against the front window, perfect for a bit of people-watching with their lunch.

* * *

Harry hunches over his Magiscope in the Department of Dark Magic Damage Research lab. Eyes pressed to the eyepiece, he stares intensely into the dark box and studies the streaks of light that each indicates a different piece of magic at work on the magical core imaged in front of him. He lifts his wand and gently peels away the layers he knows to be benign magic, then huffs softly with released tension as they pull away easily and aren’t entangled with the darker magic he can see in subsequent layers.

Today, Friday, marks four full weeks that he’s been working at the CRMM. The first two weeks of training had been intense but extremely engaging, and Harry looks forward to going to work every day. At the beginning of October, he’d been given his own station in one of the Dark Magic Research labs. His lab partners are two other Dark Magic experts and three Curse-Breakers. The Dark Magic experts take the _Prior Incantato_ imaging of damaged magical cores and peel away the benign magic, working to identify the Dark Magic. Then the Curse-Breakers figure out how to break the hold the Dark Magic has on the magical core without harming the witch or wizard.

Each person’s work is largely independent, which Harry appreciates because he really prefers to work on his own. The Dark Magic experts do, however, frequently ask one another to offer an opinion before lifting away what they think to be a benign spell. Pulling the wrong layer away from the magical imaging often results in having to reset the entire process and start over. So when Claire, the tall blonde French woman whose lab station is next to his, asks him to take a look at a tangle of spells before she lifts it, Harry thinks nothing of it.

“Sure, Claire, I don’t mind. But you’re much more experienced than I am, so I’m not sure how much help I will be.” Harry places a light stasis over his imaging and steps over to Claire’s station.

“Oh, Harry, don’t be silly. You’re very experienced with Dark Magic.” Claire puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder and gazes at him.

Harry carefully shrugs off her hand. He doesn’t particularly like to be touched by people he doesn’t know well, and Claire has tended to be a bit…handsy, for lack of a better word. He moves away from her, closer to her Magiscope, and presses his eyes to the eyepiece. He’s studying a particularly tight tangle of magic when he feels a hand resting on his back. He shrugs the hand off and slides his wand into the Magiscope to gently prod at a particularly ambiguous-looking spell.

When a hand lands lightly on his shoulder again, Harry shifts back from the Magiscope and finds himself in very close quarters with Claire. _Why is she always so close?_ Immediately shuffling away, Harry smiles carefully at her. “I think you were right, Claire. The orange bit does appear to be Dark Magic, or at least close to it. I’d leave that bit for the Curse-Breakers.”

“Oh, thank you!” Claire gushes with far more enthusiasm than necessary, moving closer to Harry again. “I just wanted to be sure, you know.” She tips her head and reaches up to push her hair behind her ear.

Harry sighs and moves back again. “I’m happy to help,” he states, trying to put a note of finality in his voice. He eases himself back in the direction of his own station when Claire reaches out and puts her hand on his arm.

“Let me take you to lunch to thank you,” she says eagerly.

Harry literally cannot think of anything at that moment that he would like less. Thankfully, his lunch plans are already made, so he has a ready excuse. “It’s so kind of you to offer, but I have lunch plans already, Claire.”

“Oh?” Claire sounds disappointed but then continues hopefully. “Dinner tonight then?”

“I have plans for dinner, as well,” he lies. He _does_ have lunch plans, but his dinner plans include laying on the couch in his joggers eating a sandwich; he just has no desire to spend any more time with Claire than he already does at work.

“Oh really? Who are you making all these plans with instead of making some with me?” she asks teasingly. Acutely uncomfortable, Harry braces himself to tell her, kindly, that he’s not interested in making plans with her any time soon.

“He’s making plans with me, Claire,” a deep voice says from the doorway to the lab. Harry’s gaze shoots to the doorway where Draco is leaning against the doorframe, looking absolutely fabulous in black trousers and a ribbed turtleneck jumper in slate blue. His eyes are narrowed at Claire and he looks a bit upset.

“Hello, Draco,” Harry says with immense relief in his voice. “Ready for lunch, then? Let me put a better stasis on my Magiscope, and we can go.” He flashes a grateful grin at Draco — who still looks somewhat thunderous — and heads for his own station.

A few minutes later, Draco’s hand is on his lower back as he holds open the lab door for Harry on their way out. Harry’s gotten used to Draco’s casual touches, though they still send delighted shivers up his spine, and finds them much more welcome than Claire’s will ever be. They’ve gone to lunch almost every day since Harry started working at CRMM, and they’ve spent several evenings together, as well. Unfortunately, he still doesn’t know if Draco’s actually interested in him, though Harry has been trying to flirt back more.

“So what’s going on with Claire?” Draco asks, his tone a bit waspish as they head for the elevators.

Harry darts a concerned glance at Draco’s face. He doesn’t look mad, but his voice seems to indicate otherwise. Harry shrugs. “She wanted my opinion on a particularly tight tangle of magic. I was just taking a look for her.”

“Harry,” Draco says, disbelief in his voice.

“What?” Harry asks, feeling like he should be defensive but with no idea why. They step into the elevator and Draco leans past Harry to press the button for the ground floor. Harry resists the urge to close his eyes as he inhales the delicious scent that is Draco.

“It’s just help between co-workers?” Draco asks in a voice that clearly indicates he thinks otherwise. Confused, Harry tries to figure out what Draco is getting at. Claire is overzealous and chatty and touches people way too much, but she’s his co-worker and she’d asked for help.

“Yes…”

“Do _you_ offer to take your co-workers to lunch for giving you a second opinion on a spell?” Draco quirks an eyebrow at Harry. There’s clearly something here Harry is missing.

“Well, not usually, no…”

Draco heaves a gigantic sigh and Harry looks at him in alarm.

“She’s flirting with you, Potter!”

“She’s what?!”

“She’s flirting. I stood in the doorway and watched the whole thing. She’s interested in you. Romantically.” Draco runs both hands through his hair in exasperation. “I know you can be a bit slow on the uptake, but _surely_ you must know how good you look in those trousers!”

 _Surely not. Claire is just…like that. Isn’t she?_ “Are you sure?”

Draco’s expression changes to one of slight amusement. “Pretty sure, Harry. Just…stay away from her. She’s a terrible idea.”

Harry chuckles at the disdain clearly written on Draco’s sharp features. Somehow, even with his nose wrinkled, he’s gorgeous.

“Staying away from her sounds delightful, actually. I’m not at all interested in Claire. She’s not my type.” Harry sees relief flit through Draco’s expression and wonders how he’s supposed to interpret it. He shakes his head as he finishes processing everything Draco has been saying. “Wait. You think I look good in these trousers?”

“ _That_ is what you took away from this?!” Draco rolls his eyes. “Yes, those trousers make your arse look fantastic, all right?”

Draco makes a show of peering behind Harry and leering at his arse. Harry’s face lights on fire and he smiles bashfully under the attention. The doors open and Draco quickly straightens. Harry fails to hide his laugh as they head out the doors and towards the front entrance of the CRMM.

“Are we avoiding the press today or enduring their nonsense?” Draco asks, rolling his eyes, clearly feeling that avoiding the press is the way to go. The first time they’d dined together at a wizarding establishment, the press had shown up and started taking pictures. They’d graced the front page of the Daily Prophet the next day. Harry is always game to avoid the press, so agreeing with Draco is quite easy.

“Let’s go back to that Muggle cafe with the French onion soup you like so much. I don’t feel like being papped today.”

“That sounds perfect,” Draco nods in agreement.

“Is your experimental repair potion project going better? You seem less frustrated than yesterday,” Harry asks as they join the queue for the indoor Apparition point. Less frustrated is an understatement, as Draco had been ranting before they even reached the elevators the previous two days.

“Yes. Much, actually. The idea you had about strengthening the lighter magic with extra lacewing while simultaneously suppressing the malevolent made a big difference. It’s not a solution but it was a step forward.” Draco steps into the Apparition area and offers his arm to Harry. “Side-Along?”

Harry wraps his hand around Draco’s bicep and stands close, taking the opportunity to breathe in the smell of bergamot and mint that must come from Draco’s shampoo. Draco’s other hand comes up over his and Harry feels the familiar squeeze as they Disapparate.

* * *

Harry steps out of the Floo and sinks onto his couch. After his very enjoyable lunch with Draco, he’d been so distracted that his afternoon went both slowly and horribly. He’d had to restart the imaging analysis on his Magiscope several times, and he’d snapped at Claire when she just wouldn’t quit talking to him. He ended up staying late to try and get something done. Now it’s gone eight o’clock at night and he’s just getting home. His mind was completely preoccupied with analysing what had happened with Draco over lunch, from telling Harry to stay away from Claire, to the casual touches that always drove him wild — not to mention that intense look in Draco’s eyes that makes Harry feel like he’s being undressed right there.

Harry pulls out his mobile and debates sending Draco a text. Deciding to unwind a bit first, he heaves himself off the couch and heads up to change out of his work clothes. He pulls out soft black joggers and a T-shirt before stripping out of his dress shirt and trousers. He’s just debating having a wank while thinking about Draco — his new favourite way to cum — when his mobile buzzes on the bed.

**Received: How was your afternoon?**

“He doesn’t want to know,” Harry mutters while tugging on his joggers and shirt. “It was his bloody fault anyway.”

_Sent: Quite awful, actually. I had to restart the same imaging 4 times._

Harry stomps down the stairs to the kitchen and sets about making a couple of sandwiches. He desperately wishes that he knew what was or wasn’t going on between him and Draco. At the very least, he wants to know what Draco is feeling towards him.

**Received: That’s frustrating. Was something going wrong?**

Harry stares at the message. _I always strive for being open. I suppose there’s no time like the present to bite the bullet._

_Sent: I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was elsewhere._

Piling his sandwiches and some crisps on a plate, Harry grabs a butterbeer and heads back to the couch. Tonight is going to consist of food, the couch, bad television, and texting Draco. Arranging himself comfortably, he flips on the telly and reaches for his phone as it vibrates.

**Received: What was weighing that heavily on your mind? Is everything ok?**

“Bloody hell,” Harry mutters. He taps out his reply and sits with his finger hovering over the send button. _If I do this, there’s no going back._ He hits send and settles in for what could be an uncomfortable conversation.

_Sent: You._

**Received: Me?**

_Sent: You are what was on my mind._

**Received: Have I done something to upset you?**

_Sent: No, you haven’t done anything upsetting._

**Received: Have I done something else?**

_Sent: kind of._

**Received: Care to enlighten me?**

Harry runs his hands through his hair and huffs out a breath.

_Sent: I can if you’d like me to, but I’m not sure it will be what you want to hear._

**Received: I'd rather you be honest.**

Harry lays his head against the back of the couch. He doesn’t know how to say this other than bluntly, and he doesn’t know how Draco is going to respond. Having not dealt with a fresh romantic situation in almost twenty years is making him second-guess everything.

Several minutes pass as Harry tries to figure out how to put this into words that don’t feel ridiculous. He startles as his mobile begins vibrating with an incoming call.

It’s Draco. Of course, it’s Draco.

“Hello?” Harry says uncertainly.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Draco’s voice sounds equally uncertain on the other end and maybe a little hurt. “If I’ve done something to upset you, I truly am sorry.”

“No, you haven’t upset me.” Harry braces himself and forges ahead. “It’s actually at the other end of the emotional spectrum.”

“Just tell me?” Draco’s voice sounds just the slightest bit pleading.

“Ok, but I expect an honest answer from you, as well.” Harry fidgets with one of the throw pillows from the couch, glad that Draco can’t see him at this moment.

“Deal,” says Draco, firmly.

“I’ve really been enjoying all the time we have been spending together,” Harry begins, hesitating as he pieces together his next words.

“As have I.” Draco’s voice sounds reassuring.

“Good. The issue is that I’m finding that…” Harry pauses and heaves a deep breath, grasping the pillow and twisting it in his hand. “…that I’m finding myself rather attracted to you.”

“You’re attracted to me?”

Is that shock or surprise in Draco’s voice? It’s so much harder to tell without seeing his face. At least it doesn’t sound like he’s upset or put off by it.

 _In for a Knut, in for a Galleon._ “Yes.”

“Romantically?” Draco sounds almost hopeful, but Harry can’t decide if that’s what he wants to hear or if that’s what Draco is really conveying.

“…yes,” Harry breathes and the dam breaks and the words just tumble out. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way. It’s been a long time since I had to deal with this kind of situation and sometimes I think you might reciprocate those feelings, but I can never quite tell and I was afraid I might be misinterpreting and—“

“Harry.” Draco’s voice cuts him off.

“Yes?” Harry replies hesitantly.

Harry hears Draco take in and release a deep breath.

“You’re not misinterpreting.”

“I’m not?”

Suddenly, Harry’s brain is going a million miles an hour and his chest is tightening just that little bit around his heart and he’s clutching the throw pillow to his chest.

_Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. If I’m not misinterpreting then…_

“You’re not. I’m very much attracted to you, as well.”

That, Harry knows, is a smile he hears in Draco’s voice. Relief and something akin to joy flood his body and the pillow is released from his grip.

“Oh…” _Eloquent, Potter._ He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I just wasn’t sure if you returned the affection, or if you were even ready for that kind of relationship right now.” Draco seems hesitant again. “I didn’t want to be pushy.”

Harry laughs softly and goes back to toying with the edge of the soft pillow. “I’m absolute shite at the flirting-and-showing-initial-interest part of a relationship, Draco. If I was better at it, perhaps you’d have seen that I definitely return the affection, and I’m open to…being pursued romantically.”

Draco huffs a laugh and Harry can hear the pleasure in his voice.

“Well, that’s good to know. I’ve come close to just throwing caution to the wind several times and being more assertive, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Harry is relieved he hadn’t been the only one feeling something in those moments. “Honestly, there’s been a couple of times when I’ve wondered if you might kiss me.”

A deep rumbling laugh comes from Draco.

“Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

Harry feels suddenly just a little shy. “I wouldn’t have minded if you did.”

There’s a heavy silence before Draco’s voice continues.

“I’d really like the chance to take you out properly, if you’re amenable.”

“Like a date?” Harry asks, his insecurity needing the clarification.

“Yes, Harry,” Draco chuckles. “A date.”

Harry’s heart is suddenly full to bursting and he's grinning so hard his face is splitting in two and the poor pillow is being gently pounded with excitement. “I’d like that. Quite a lot, actually.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“That’d be lovely.” Harry balls the pillow against his chest again. Sweet Godric Gryffindor, he has a date. With Draco fucking Malfoy.

“I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress Muggle; I don’t want to be papped on our first proper date.” Draco says drolly.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, that’d probably be best. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Do you feel better now?” There’s an easiness to Draco’s voice now that Harry hadn’t realised was missing before.

“You have no idea,” Harry laughs.

Draco’s laughter joins his own.

“I think I do, actually.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Sent: I NEED HELP!_

**Received: What’s the matter?**

_Sent: I have a date!_

**Received: With Draco?**

_Sent: Yes!_

**Received: Wonderful! When?**

_Sent: TONIGHT!_

**Received: Give me 15 minutes and I’ll be over. Open the Floo?**

_Sent: Of course. You’re the best!_

Harry is pacing fervently in front of the fireplace when the Floo turns green and Hermione steps out. She takes one look at Harry’s face and laughs.

“Oh, Harry.” She shakes her head. “You’ve really worked yourself into a state, haven’t you?”

“Maybe a bit.” Harry envelopes her into a hug. “Thank you for saving me. Again.” He really doesn’t know how he would have survived this long without Hermione. She’s been the only constant in his life since age eleven.

Hermione squeezes him in return. “I’ll save you whenever necessary.” She pulls away and looks Harry over. “What, exactly, am I saving you from today?”

“My wardrobe,” Harry sighs.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Right then. Upstairs?”

She turns and heads for the stairs, Harry following several paces behind. He knows she’s going to have a fit when she opens the door to his bedroom. His entire wardrobe is strewn on the bed. _Hermione scolding in 5…4…3…2…_

“Harry!” Hermione sounds torn between the anticipated scolding and hysterical laughter. “What on earth?”

“I can’t figure out what to wear.” Harry’s hands twist into his hair and he sighs. “I _really_ want this to go well, you know?”

“Well, it’s not as if Draco hasn’t seen you in your everyday clothes.” Hermione gestures to one pile on the bed, and then to another. “And he helped you pick out your work clothes. He knows what you look like and he asked you for a date with that knowledge.”

“I know, it’s just—” Harry fumbles for words. “Hermione, I feel like a teenager. I really like him. I enjoy his company. I think he’s a fantastic person. And he’s bloody fit!”

He puts his hands over his face and sighs. He’s never kept anything from Hermione and he’s not going to start now. He drops his hands.

“I haven’t dated in the nearly twelve years since Gin died. I’ve focused on the kids. I’ve been lonely,” he pauses when Hermione’s eyes narrow, “…romantically speaking. And it was what was necessary for us. And I wasn’t looking for anyone when Draco asked me for tea. But Hermione…”

“Go on, Harry,” she encourages, eyes a bit bright and voice a bit shaky.

“I’m ready to be happy again. To share my life with someone. Maybe even to be loved by someone again.” Harry watches Hermione’s eyes spill over, and one lone tear rolls down each cheek. “And since I think Draco might be that someone, I really don’t want to fuck this up.”

Hermione launches herself at Harry and hugs him tightly. He wraps his arms around her small frame in return. “You deserve all that and more, Harry. You’ve sacrificed so much of yourself for the kids, and for the whole wizarding world before that. I know you did it willingly and out of love, but it’s ok to want things for _you_ , too.” She buries her face in his chest for a moment and then pulls back, taking both of Harry’s hands.

“All right. Clothes. Do you know where you’re going?”

“Somewhere Muggle. We both decided we don’t want to get papped on our first proper date.” Harry rolls his eyes. Hermione mutters something about stupid beetles and nosy reporters as she begins rifling through Harry’s clothes. 

“Here,” she says, handing him a pile. “Put these away and I’ll keep looking.”

Obediently, Harry goes to the closet and starts folding and hanging clothes. Several piles later, Hermione has three outfits laid out on the bed. “Ok, first question. Are you wearing your glasses or are you using a vision charm?”

“Vision charm, I think,” Harry replies immediately. “If Draco kisses me, I don’t want to have to worry with my glasses. Not the first time, at least.”

A bizarre look crosses Hermione’s face and Harry looks at her askance. She shakes her head almost imperceptibly and Harry narrows his eyebrows in return before raising them expectantly. Hermione huffs.

“Fine. I’m so happy for you, but at the same time, it’s so weird that it’s Malfoy!”

Harry laughs. “ _Draco_ said basically the same thing the first night he came over for dinner. ‘If our eleven-year-old selves could see us now.’”

“Isn’t that the truth!” Hermione lifts one outfit and sets it to the side. “If you’re not wearing your glasses, what would you think about one of these?”

Harry looks down at the outfits. One is dark wash denims that fit rather snug, a dark burgundy dress shirt, and a charcoal sport blazer. The other is fitted charcoal trousers and a supersoft deep green ribbed, fitted, turtleneck jumper. Harry turns to Hermione and waggles his eyebrows. “Let’s go with Slytherin green, just for the fun of it.”

* * *

Harry pulls out his mobile — again — to check the time — again. 6.43 PM. He’s been dressed and ready since 6.15 and he swears his clocks are moving at half time. He’s in the clothes Hermione helped him select, and he has to admit, she chose well. The trousers are well-tailored — they really _do_ make his arse look good — and the jumper is just fitted enough to show off the tone he’s worked to keep on the backyard pitch.

Harry forces himself to take another deep breath and resumes his pacing. He jumps when the Floo chimes. Kneeling on the hearth, he opens the connection to see Hermione smirking at him.

“You were pacing, weren’t you?”

Harry laughs softly. “Guilty as charged.”

“How long after I left did you wait before you started getting ready?” Hermione asks, shaking her head and smiling.

Harry is actually proud of himself for waiting as long as he did. “You left at two. I didn’t even get in the shower until five.”

“You took a nap, didn’t you?” Hermione says knowingly.

“You know me well.” He can never put anything past Hermione, and thank goodness for that, because it’s kept him out of trouble more than once.

Hermione’s lilting laugh makes him smile. “Stand up then, and let me have a look at you.”

Harry obligingly stands while Hermione looks him over. Her hand appears in the Floo and she spins one finger, so he rotates in a circle for her, as well.

“You look fantastic, Harry. Malfoy’s not going to know what hit him.” She looks every inch a proud mother hen as she nods approvingly. She glances briefly down. “And it’s now 5 till, so go grab your things. He’ll be there to pick you up any minute.”

He looks at Hermione with affection. She knew he’d be nervous and called just to distract him. “Thank you, Hermione. Love you!”

“Love you, too, Harry! Have fun. I hope it goes well!” She withdraws her head from the Floo and closes the connection.

Harry gathers his wand, wallet, and mobile before dashing to the loo for a final check in the mirror. He can’t remember the last time he thought _this_ much about his appearance. He never had when he was dating several men after the war, and he certainly never had with Ginny. There’s just something different about this date with Draco.

The wards shift and there are suddenly Hippogriffs tap dancing in his chest. A knock echoes through the house, and Harry strides to the door. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to hang on to his excitement but banish his nerves.

Swinging the door open, his first glimpse of Draco nearly makes him gasp. He’s dressed in black trousers and a deep plum dress shirt under his stylish jacket, and he looks absolutely gorgeous. Harry shamelessly looks Draco over before smiling up at him. Draco’s returning smile makes him melt, just a little.

He steps aside. “Hi. You look fantastic. Come on in?”

Draco obliges and, as he steps around the door, Harry sees what he’s holding. Draco offers three roses to Harry; one orange, one lavender, and one white, tied together with a simple silver bow.

“You look wonderful, as well.”

“Thank you. Let me just put these in the kitchen, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Taking the proffered flowers, he moves swiftly to place them on the countertop and turns back to Draco. Harry is unprepared for the look Draco is giving him. It seems almost adoring.

Draco’s eyes lift to meet Harry’s, and a slow, satisfied smile replaces his previous expression. That smile excites the Hippogriffs even more, and Harry feels warm all over under Draco’s gaze.

Shrugging into his black leather jacket, Harry opens the door for Draco and lays a hand lightly on his back to escort him out. He closes and wards the door then turns back to Draco with a smile.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he confesses. “I suppose it’s because I want this to go well, but it seems silly. I already know I enjoy your company.”

Draco laughs with something akin to relief. “I’m glad it’s not just me. I was pacing my living room before I left and I felt ridiculous.”

“I was, too, until Hermione called on the Floo to distract me. She knew I would be worked up.” They head down the front steps, and just outside the wards, Harry turns to Draco, who offers his arm.

“With me?”

Harry nods, grasping Draco’s arm and stepping close. Draco’s hand covers his and with a pop, they’re gone.

When his world rights again, Harry’s eyes search and find a sign on the wall. Draco has Apparated them to the wizarding Apparition point in South Bank, London. Harry smiles, knowing the area should be busy enough for them to blend in even if other wizards are out.

Instead of loosening his hold, Draco’s covering hand guides Harry’s gently down until their fingers can lace together. “Is this all right?” he asks gently.

“More than.” The warmth coursing into Harry’s body from where their palms touch brings him a feeling of contentment. This just _feels_ right.

“Let’s go, then.”

Draco smiles at Harry before turning to lead him out of the hidden Apparition point. Walking hand in hand with Draco is nearly surreal. Harry hasn’t been with _anyone_ in twelve years, and he’s suddenly realising just how much he’s missed this kind of companionship.

Draco leads them to Jubilee Gardens, where there’s a picnic blanket spread out with a large hamper next to it. Harry feels the magic of the gentle Muggle-Repelling Charm around it as they approach.

“I went for something less traditional than a typical first date,” Draco says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I really just wanted to be able to spend some time with you without the weird _not-knowing-if-there-was-something-more_ thing in the way.”

“It’s perfect.”

Harry can’t wipe the contented smile from his face, and he notices with pleasure that Draco’s expression mirrors his own. Draco pulls him gently onto the blanket, and Harry’s suddenly wrapped in a gentle warming charm as well.

Draco toes off his shoes and Harry quickly does the same before they both sink onto the soft blanket. _Cushioning charms._ Harry watches as Draco pulls out sandwiches and crisps and fruit and slowly becomes more lost for words. Everything — down to the flavour of crisps — is something Harry’s eaten in front of Draco before. _He remembered everything. Everything._ Harry isn’t sure what emotion is climbing his throat, but he’s certain it’s a good one.

Forgoing individual plates, Draco just lays everything out so they can eat as they please. He settles next to Harry on the blanket and offers him a sandwich before taking one for himself.

“Part of me can’t believe we’re sitting here doing this — the rest of me feels like we should have been doing this all along.” Draco shakes his head just a little.

Harry nods in agreement. “I’m glad we’re here now.”

They sit in comfortable silence as they eat and enjoy the lights and the skyline and just being close. When Harry’s had his fill, he stretches out on the blanket, lying prone and pillowing his head on his arms, face towards Draco.

“Are you quite comfortable?” Draco teases, finishing his apple. His lips are damp with the juice, and Harry would very much enjoy kissing it off.

“I am,” Harry smirks. “I’m quite enjoying the view.”

Draco laughs as he places the empty plates back in the basket. Stretching out next to Harry, he lays on his side, head propped on one arm. The angles of Draco’s face look softer under the lights, and his alabaster skin is almost glowing. He looks absolutely gorgeous.

“The view isn’t bad from here, either, but I can think of something better.” Draco’s hand skates lightly across Harry’s back and to the hip furthest from Draco. The touch sends a brilliant warmth through Harry’s body. He can’t hide the contented sigh at Draco’s touch, and he hears a pleased noise from Draco in response. Tugging gently on Harry’s hip, Draco urges Harry to roll against him. Harry willingly moves, putting his back against Draco’s chest as Draco’s arm snakes around his waist. “There,” Draco says in a satisfied voice.

“Much better,” Harry agrees, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth emanating from having Draco wrapped around him. He inhales and lets out a soft sigh at the pleasant aroma of Draco's shampoo mixed with the sweetness of the apple he'd been eating.

“You know, I really didn’t think I’d ever have a chance at this,” Draco says softly.

“At what, exactly?” Harry settles closer to Draco’s chest and laces his fingers through Draco’s hand.

“A relationship,” Draco clarifies.

“Why’s that?”

“When I made the decision to marry Astoria, I really thought I was giving that up.” 

Harry feels Draco shrug behind him and his heart aches at Draco’s willingness to give up his chance at a loving relationship, to just accept never being able to have that in favour of doing what was necessary for him. 

“I was content, though,” Draco continued, “with Scorpius and me. I did date a little, but it was when Scorpius was young and I was still closely associated with my father in the wizarding world, so it was only Muggles I met at the pub or elsewhere in town. There was never going to be anything serious there, and I really thought I was ok with it.”

Harry certainly knows that feeling. He suppresses a chuckle. “When did you figure out you weren’t ok with it?”

“That day with you at the coffee shop.” This time Harry allows his laugh to escape.

“You’re not the only one.”

“Oh?” Draco sounds sincerely surprised. Maybe Harry hadn’t been as obvious as he thought.

They'd both come from such different circumstances to arrive at the same point. Harry married for love, not an heir, and he was married for almost seven years. But he was still a bit blindsided by everything at the coffee shop that day.

“I loved Ginny. Probably part of me always will. When she died, I didn’t think I’d ever want to be with someone else. It was me and the kids against the world, and I was ok with that. I didn’t date at all; I wasn’t looking to date.” Harry huffs another laugh. “That remained true up until about halfway through tea that day.”

Draco laughs softly with him, and Harry feels it against his back. “Can I ask a bold question?”

“Of course.” Harry traces his thumb over the soft skin of Draco’s hand. “I’m not one for holding back, Draco. I have extremely open communication with my kids and my friends and I’d like to continue that with you through…” Harry squeezes Draco’s hand and glances back at him.“…this.”

Draco heaves an uncertain sigh. “Very well.” Harry shifts away, turning over to face Draco and giving his best encouraging smile urging Draco to continue. “What would you like out of this? Out of us? Where do you want this to go, I suppose is my question?”

Harry breathes deeply and takes a moment to organise his thoughts. He wants to make sure he communicates everything clearly, and that seems more difficult given his proximity to Draco. “I’ve never done casual well. I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know that I rarely do things halfway.”

Draco chuckles and Harry reaches out and rests his hand on Draco’s chest. “I suppose I’d like to see if we are as compatible romantically as I think we might be,” Harry continues. “And if we are, I’d like this to go somewhere serious. And long term. I don’t want a fling.”

Draco’s eyes close and Harry panics just a bit before his lips turn up in a hint of a smile.

“Good. We’re on the same page.” Draco’s voice is barely above a whisper but his words make relief spread through Harry’s gut.

“You _do_ know that dating me — that being in a relationship with me — comes with…Er…” Harry rolls his eyes. “Publicity, I guess?”

“I do.” Draco doesn’t look entirely thrilled about this, but frankly, Harry isn’t either. “That’s why I chose somewhere Muggle tonight.“

“It will probably have to be that way, at least at first.”

Harry hopes fervently Draco understands that he doesn’t _want_ to hide their budding relationship. Sometimes it really sucks being Harry Potter.

“I mean, if we decide this is going to be serious and long term, we need to tell the kids before we’re out publicly as a couple. I don’t want them to find out from the press.”

“I agree.” Draco reaches out and touches Harry’s cheek. “Would you like to take a walk? Maybe ride the Eye?”

Harry leans gently into Draco’s strong hand. “Sounds brilliant.”

Draco pushes himself up to sit and finds his shoes, passing Harry his, as well. Picnic blanket and basket surreptitiously shrunken and tucked into Draco’s jacket pocket, he takes Harry’s hand and they set off walking through the park. The night air is just chilly enough that Harry casts a wandless, wordless warming charm over them both.

“Show off,” Draco teases.

Harry quirks an eyebrow. “Would you rather be chilly?”

“I can think of better ways to keep warm,” Draco says suggestively. Harry’s cheeks heat as he recalls all the ways he’s imagined Draco helping him _keep warm_.

He rolls his eyes, both at Draco and himself. “Are they appropriate in public?”

“Some of them.”

Draco’s chuckle is low. They’ve stopped at the rail overlooking the water. Harry leans against it and feels Draco’s firm chest make contact with his back. Draco’s arms slip snugly around his waist, and Harry leans into the embrace, sighing contentedly as the warmth from Draco’s body surrounds him.

“I used to bring Scorpius here in the summers,” Draco says, almost wistfully. “He would play on the playground, and we’d eat ice cream and ride the Eye. We were just people here, not Malfoys.”

“I’ve actually never been to Jubilee Gardens until tonight.” Harry knows divulging this is going to lead to questions, but he also has no desire to hide any part of himself from Draco. He only hopes Draco will feel equally comfortable with his own past.

“Never?” Draco sounds shocked. “Not even as a child?”

“Nope. My aunt and uncle never took me anywhere as a child unless they had to.” Harry shrugs. “I had to stay in my cupboard if they went out somewhere fun with my cousin.”

“Your… _cupboard_?” Draco is clearly confused.

“Oh, surely you’ve read the unauthorised tell-alls that came out after the war,” Harry says with mild disdain. “They even had pictures.”

“No, actually,” Draco says carefully. “I thought they were rather horrible for invading your life like that, but I didn’t read them. I didn’t read much from the wizarding world at that point, honestly.”

“I can understand that. And they were rather invasive,” Harry agrees. “At any rate, my bedroom before I went to Hogwarts was a cupboard under the stairs.”

Draco’s hold on Harry tightens. “That’s…that’s disgusting. That on top of the cooking and everything else.”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve gone through.” Harry shrugs. “I’d rather like to think life owes me something spectacularly good for a while after an awful lot of crap.” Harry’s worked hard not to stay bitter about his life circumstances after Ginny’s death. A lot of time with his Mind-Healer means he’s been mostly successful, but he does still hold hope that there are good things in his future.

“You deserve it. You really do.” Draco leans his head forward and rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder, mouth by Harry’s ear. “I had to work so hard to get to where I am, to make up for all the horrible things I did as a teenager and to dull the awful stain my father put on our name. I _deserved_ the garbage I went through. It just seems unfair that you dealt with so much, and nothing you did merited being put through it.”

“Draco. No one deserves to pay for the shite we went through as teenagers. And you certainly never deserved to pay for your father’s transgressions.” Harry’s voice softens and he squeezes Draco’s hand. “And maybe this will be the start of my _something good_.”

“I would be quite all right with that. Come on, let’s go ride the Eye.” Draco leads Harry to a secluded entrance at the base of the London Eye, giving his name to the hostess.

“Right this way Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter,” she says, leading them through a door and to a large pod with floor-to-ceiling windows all the way around.

“Oh, wow,” Harry breathes. Draco squeezes his hand and leads him across to the far side of the pod.

“Enjoy the ride, gentlemen,” the hostess says before stepping out and closing the door.

“You got us a private pod?” Harry shoots Draco an incredulous look. No one had ever gone to this much effort for him or made him feel so special. He suspects Draco may set out to spoil him if this relationship goes well.

“I did.” Draco wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and leads him to the rail as the Eye continues its upward journey. Harry snuggles in as Draco begins pointing out familiar places as they ascend.

Harry stares out over London and just enjoys how right it feels to be with Draco. Never in a million years did he expect to have a romantic relationship again. He certainly didn’t think it would be with a man. And he would have bet all his gold in Gringotts against it being Draco.

But since that day on the platform, they’ve become fast friends and he’s felt no discomfort speaking openly, even when they disagree. He finds Draco interesting and thoughtful and kind. Not that he’s perfect — his temper is still quick to rise, even though he’s better at controlling it, he rants when he’s frustrated, and he gives a wicked cold shoulder when he’s angry — but Harry’s not perfect either. Harry dares to hope that maybe they—

“Harry?” Draco squeezes his hip. “Are you even listening to me?”

Harry turns his head quickly, quite sure he looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’m sorry. I got lost in my head thinking about how good it feels to be here, next to you.”

Draco smiles softly at him. “So you didn’t hear my question?”

“I didn’t,” Harry confirms. “Ask me again?”

Draco gently shifts Harry until he has a hand on either hip, smiling as he holds Harry’s gaze. “I said I’d like to kiss you. May I?”

Harry stares back into those silvery eyes and nods. Draco’s hands move to cup Harry’s face and Harry’s lightly grips Draco’s hips and everything starts moving a little slower. And then Draco’s soft lips are on his and it’s better than he ever could have imagined.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry stops running his fingers through Draco’s baby-soft hair and reaches for the remote as the credits begin to roll. Lifting his head from Harry’s lap, Draco sits up and stretches. They’d opted for a Friday night in at Potter Cottage instead of going out. Takeaway and a movie had been the perfect choice.

Harry waves his hand to bring up the lights as Draco reaches for his jumper, preparing to put it on. Suddenly, the indecision Harry had been battling vanishes, and he knows what he wants. He reaches over and pulls Draco’s hand away from his jumper. A confused look crosses Draco’s face and Harry cups his cheek gently and kisses him.

Draco kisses back willingly and Harry can’t get over how, every time he’s kissed Draco this last few weeks, it’s just as amazing as the first time. He feels Draco’s tongue run against his lips and willingly parts them. Harry moans softly and deepens the kiss further. Though they’ve had lunch together daily at work and gone to dinner a couple of nights, there hasn’t been nearly enough time for _this_ , and Harry doesn’t want this evening to end.

Breaking the kiss gently, Harry pulls back and takes in Draco’s wide pupils and kiss-swollen lips. Draco furrows his brows and Harry smiles.

“Do you want to stay?” he asks softly. He watches a delighted expression spread over Draco’s face.

“I would love to.”

Draco leans in and presses his lips gently to Harry’s. Harry grins into the kiss and then steps back.

“Let me clean this up, and we can go upstairs.” He gathers the remains of their dinner, and Draco grabs the popcorn bowl and empty butterbeer bottles.

Mess dealt with, Harry laces his fingers through Draco’s and leads him up the stairs. As much as he wants Draco to stay, Harry is also incredibly apprehensive. It’s been twelve years since he’s had anyone but his kids in his bed.

Once in the bedroom, Harry turns to Draco and smiles ruefully. “I feel ridiculous. I want you here, but I’m so nervous. And I don’t even know why.”

Draco pulls Harry close, kisses his forehead, and wraps him in a tight embrace. “I don’t have any expectations, Harry. If we do nothing more than sleep next to each other, that’s more than adequate. I just want to be _with_ you.”

Harry smiles into Draco’s shoulder, then eases back. “That’s why I asked you to stay. I’m just not ready to let you go tonight.” He gives Draco a peck. “Let’s at least get comfortable. Do you want something to sleep in?”

“I usually just sleep in my pants. Is that all right?”

“Merlin, yes. I do the same.”

Draco smirks and reaches for the hem of Harry’s shirt. “May I?”

Harry’s brain ceases all coherent thought as he realises Draco is asking permission to undress him. “Yes, of course,” he manages.

As Draco draws Harry’s shirt up, Harry’s arms raise automatically. He eases the neckline over Harry’s glasses, off his arms, and lets it fall gently to the floor. His soft hands run down the hard planes of Harry’s chest and over his stomach before he leans in and kisses him tenderly.

Harry’s hands wander from Draco’s hips to under his t-shirt, and he slides it up over Draco’s head before Draco shrugs the rest of the way out of it. Harry takes in Draco’s chest up close, tracing one finger down the single thin white scar from just below Draco’s right collar bone across to his left nipple. It’s nearly invisible unless you’re up close, but it’s there, and Harry can’t help but feel ashamed that he’s the one responsible for marring Draco’s body.

One finger is placed under Harry’s chin, and Draco gently lifts until Harry looks at him. “I told you it was there, Harry. It’s the only spot that scarred. And you can’t even see it unless you know to look.” Draco’s sincerity is written all over his face and in his eyes. “I forgave you a long time ago, just like you forgave me for breaking your nose. It’s not who we are now.”

Harry closes his eyes and exhales, letting Draco’s words wash over him. He did know it was there. They did already talk about this. It’s just hard to see the evidence on Draco’s skin. He opens his eyes and nods. Draco dips his head to kiss Harry again, hands moving to the button of Harry’s denims. Harry moans at the friction against his half-hard cock.

“Still ok?”

Draco’s voice is husky as he asks, and Harry nods his consent. Draco is almost reverent as he undoes Harry’s fly and slides the fabric over his hips, down his thighs, and to the ground. Harry warms not only from arousal but from having someone so…dedicated to taking care of him and making sure he is ok. That’s always been Harry’s job — taking care of everyone else. It’s wonderful to be on the receiving end.

He steps out of his denims and Draco rises, running his hands back up Harry’s body to settle on his hips. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Harry,” he says, voice raspy. “I hope you know that.”

Harry huffs softly. “I could say the same about you.”

“How would you know?” Draco smirks. “I’m still wearing my trousers.”

“Well, that can be remedied if you wish,” Harry laughs. Draco nods and Harry sets about popping the button and lowering the zipper before pushing Draco’s trousers over his tight arse and to the floor. Draco steps out of the puddle of fabric and Harry unashamedly takes all of Draco in.

Draco is less muscled than Harry but incredibly fit. The white-blonde hair on his legs matches the hair on his head, so light it’s almost translucent. Harry takes in the bulge in Draco’s pants, feeling his own cock swell more at the sight. _Merlin, he’s beautiful_.

“What do you know?” Harry returns Draco’s smirk. “I was right. Absolutely gorgeous.”

Harry is suddenly wrapped in Draco’s arms and they’re chest to chest and Draco is kissing him deeply. “Fuck, Harry,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to speak. “This feels like a dream.”

With a wicked grin, Harry gives Draco’s arse a pinch through his pants. Draco yelps and then laughs. “Ok, not a dream then.”

“Come on.”

Harry guides Draco to the bed and turns down the duvet and sheets. They slide in from either side and meet in the middle, immediately becoming a tangle of tongues and arms and legs. Draco moans softly into Harry’s mouth and Harry is lost to the kiss. The only thing he’s aware of is Draco’s skin against his and the hardness of Draco’s erection when it brushes against his hip.

Harry’s nerves stir again as Draco shifts slightly over him. It’s been a long time since he’s done anything but fly solo for his sexual pleasure, and even longer since he’s been with another man.

He pulls back from the kiss and reaches to hold both of Draco’s hands. “I’ve always told my kids to have an open dialogue with their partners when the time comes.”

Draco lifts his head and looks at Harry askance. “Potter. We’re in bed, in only our pants. Why are you talking about your children?”

“Oh, hush!” Harry laughs at his own awkwardness. “I’m saying I want to have that with you. I want to know what you like and dislike and what you want. I…I haven’t been with anyone since Ginny, and I’m not sure it’s like riding a broom.”

“Have you _ever_ been with a man?” Draco asks softly.

“Yes.” Harry nods against Draco. “Three different guys, actually. After the war. Before I got back with Ginny. But that’s been over twenty years, Draco.”

Draco kisses Harry lightly before rolling to his back. He gathers Harry against him and Harry willingly stretches out against him, head on Draco’s chest.

“I’ve had a few partners since Astoria left. No one in the last several years, and certainly no one serious enough to introduce to Scorpius.” Draco’s hand skates across Harry’s skin affectionately as he speaks. “He is aware that I’m gay, but he’s never known me to be in a relationship. So it’s been quite a while since I’ve had a partner, as well.”

“More recent than me, though.”

Harry takes a deep breath. Speaking openly about preferences during sex is never exactly easy. It’s a little awkward even in the best circumstances. But this is important to him. He wants to know what Draco likes and dislikes, and he wants Draco to feel comfortable doing things he knows Harry will enjoy.

“Tell me about what you like?” Harry asks, cuddling closer to Draco and feeling Draco hold him just a little bit tighter.

“Hmm…” Draco sounds a bit nervous.

“I want to know, Draco.” Harry lifts his head and gives Draco a soft kiss. “I want to know what you like so I can give you pleasure. And I want you to know what I like so you don’t have to worry about doing something I don’t like and we can focus on the parts that feel good.”

“That makes sense.” Draco still sounds a bit hesitant. “That’s never been something I’ve had to worry about. With Astoria there was…no sexual attraction. It was something I had to do. And my other partners were…at the risk of sounding vulgar, just a shag.”

“Do you want me to go first?” Hardy asks gently.

“Would you?”

“Of course.” Harry listens to the rhythm of Draco’s heart as he gathers his thoughts for a moment. “Ok. I enjoy kisses and cuddling pretty much any time. Even in public, I don’t mind appropriate open affection. It’s also great in the bedroom. With as few clothes as possible, usually.” Harry feels Draco laugh beneath his head.

“I’ve never been in a relationship where public affection is a thing,” Draco says thoughtfully. “But I very much enjoyed holding your hand when we’ve been in Muggle London, as well as holding you and kissing you.”

“I’ve enjoyed that, as well.” Harry smiles, remembering. “I like being touched just about anywhere but my armpits and my feet.”

“Oh Merlin, me too.” Draco laughs. “And the backs of my knees. I hate being touched there.”

Harry files that bit of information away before he continues. “I like handjobs, but not too rough. I like having my bollocks played with. With hands or mouth, actually.”

Draco hums softly and Harry pauses to let him speak. “Handjobs are good. I’ve actually never had anyone else play with my balls, but I’m not put off at the thought.”

“We can figure that out together, yeah?” Harry smiles at the thought of helping Draco discover more of his own likes and dislikes. “What about blowjobs?”

Silence. “I’ve given them. Don’t mind that in the least. I’ve found it quite enjoyable.” Draco pauses and shifts a bit. “But I’ve never had one,” he confesses. 

“Never? Well, that’s a thing we need to try, then.” Harry traces invisible patterns on Draco’s chest with his fingers. “I enjoy both giving and receiving them. No teeth though.”

“Do people actually like that?” Draco sounds slightly aghast.

“People like all kinds of things, I suppose.” Harry shrugs. “Do you have preferences for penetration?”

“With a cock?” Draco clarifies.

“Or fingers, or tongues, or toys…” Harry laughs softly. “Or anything else that strikes your fancy, I guess.”

“I’ve never had anyone else finger me or use toys, but I’ve done it to myself.” Draco sounds a little horrified at his own admissions, but he continues. “I’ve enjoyed that. I’ve never been rimmed, or rimmed anyone. Not usually something one does with a one-off, is it? I think I’d like to try it, but I don’t know how that will go.”

“That’s fair. Anything we try, Draco, you can say no to. I want you to feel good.”

“What about you?” 

“I’ve only been fingered by someone else. I enjoyed it. I finger myself and use toys. I find it very enjoyable. I’d love to have you do either to me.”

“Merlin, yes,” Draco breathes. “I’ve never used toys on someone else.” Draco’s eyes go a bit unfocused and Harry wonders if Draco’s mind is where his has gone. All he can think about is Draco stretching him wide and sliding a dildo in his arse.

“I’ve never rimmed someone or been rimmed, either. But I find the idea of rimming you incredibly appealing. I’d like to try being rimmed, as well.”

A satisfied rumble comes from Draco’s chest, and then a hint of a moan.

 _He must be as hard as I am, thinking about all this._ _And we still haven’t talked about cocks in arses._

Harry decides to forge ahead. “Do you like penetrative sex?”

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t had a lot of it, but it was definitely good.”

“Do you have a preference for topping or bottoming?”

“I’ve usually topped. I bottomed once. It was ok.”

Harry feels his body heat and he stays silent.

“Harry? Is that not ok?”

“It’s completely ok. I…” Harry pauses, clearing his throat from the sudden roughness before he can continue. “I actually have a pretty strong preference for bottoming. I’ve topped with a man. It’s ok. But I much prefer a cock inside me.”

“Wow…ok.” Draco falters, genuinely surprised. “That’s not what I expected, honestly.”

“That’s always been the going opinion.” Harry laughs. “Seems that’s not what people expect out of a bi guy.”

“I suppose I can see that,” Draco says before laughing softly. “Has this conversation done to you what it’s done to me? Thinking about doing all those things to you?”

Harry chews his lip, trying to decide how forward to be. _Ahh, fuck it._

“Why don’t you check?” he asks suggestively.

Harry’s skin lights on fire as Draco eases him onto his back and trails a hand down his chest and to the front of his pants. Draco dips a finger into the waistband and looks into Harry’s eyes.

“May I?”

In that moment, Harry is sure he’ll never find something as much of a turn on as Draco’s heated gaze and his gentle prompting for consent.

“Yes,” Harry breathes and lifts his hips just off the bed. Somehow his nerves go out the window and all he can feel is Draco’s hands on his skin as his pants slide over his hips and his cock springs free. Draco drags them down Harry’s legs and tosses them aside.

He sits back on his heels and slowly rakes his eyes up Harry’s body. He meets Harry’s eyes, and Harry is taken aback by the affection he sees there. Harry reaches towards Draco and beckons him to come back up the bed. Laying back down next to Harry, Draco kisses him softly as Harry reaches for Draco’s waistband.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Am I?

“Pants off, Malfoy.”

Draco snickers. “Go on, then.”

Harry laughs and moves to straddle Draco’s legs. Those slender hips lift just enough for Harry to slide his fingers under the elastic and slowly reveal the final part of Draco’s body to him.

 _Merlin, even his cock is gorgeous_. 

Neat golden curls surround his erection — impressive in both looks and size. Harry is quite excited (and maybe a bit scared) to see that Draco is even larger than the dildo he’s used when fantasising about the man.

Harry shifts back, easing the soft black fabric off Draco’s feet. He nudges Draco's knees apart, running his hands over the muscled legs from ankles to hips and settling himself on his forearms between them. Looking up into Draco's face, he sees swirling silver eyes that are lust-blown, staring back at him intently, pink lips slightly parted.

“Are you ok?”

“Oh yes…” Draco’s voice is breathy and filled with need.

Harry drops his head again and kisses softly along Draco’s hip bone, slowly moving towards the centre. He buries his nose in Draco’s curls, inhaling the musky scent of Draco’s arousal before lifting up to look at Draco again.

“What do you want, Draco?”

“Mmm…” The noise Draco makes is somewhere between a moan and a sigh. “Your mouth.”

Harry groans, his own cock hardening further just knowing he’s about to give Draco his very first blow job. “Tell me what feels good, and tell me if anything doesn’t, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm…”

Harry shifts his position and keeps an eye on Draco’s face as he licks a long stripe up the underside of Draco’s cock. Draco hisses and moans, hips lifting slightly, and Harry uses one hand to gently hold Draco’s hips down. It’s been awhile since he’s had a cock in his mouth. Draco is long and thick and he doesn’t want to gag.

Harry swirls his tongue around the head and Draco moans again. Wrapping one hand around the base, Harry licks the tip before placing his lips right over Draco’s slit and slowly sucking the head into his mouth.

“Nnnngh. Sweet fucking Salazar.” Draco’s words are barely a whisper. “That’s good.”

Slowly, Harry sucks Draco down until he can’t take any more before pressing his tongue against Draco’s underside and slowly pulling back off. He allows the tip to pop from his mouth and he looks back up to watch the other man’s expression; Draco’s head is thrown back and he’s bunching the sheets in his fists.

Smiling to himself, Harry resumes his task and sets a slow, steady pace. The soft whimpers and moans falling from Draco’s mouth go straight to Harry’s aching cock.

“Yes. Merlin, yes.”

Draco begins writhing beneath him as Harry takes him deeper, hollows his cheeks, increases the pace. Suddenly there's a hand in his hair gripping his wild curls, and Harry moans around Draco's cock, moving even faster.

“Harry…Harry…Harry…” Draco’s voice is filled with lust as Harry’s name falls repeatedly from his lips.

The tugging on Harry’s hair intensifies, and he flicks his eyes up to Draco’s face.

“Gonna cum…Oh, Merlin, gonna cum…”

Harry sucks Draco back down and deep. He’s so turned on he can barely think straight and all there is in the world is his mouth and Draco’s cock; hollowed cheeks, and rough tongue, and moaning against hard flesh, and writhing hips, and Harry’s name falling from perfect pink lips.

And then Draco comes with a shout, shooting ropes of cum down Harry’s throat. Harry swallows it greedily, sucking Draco dry before he pulls off with a pop, gently licking Draco's spent cock clean. He crawls up beside Draco and takes in his face; flushed and pink, mouth still gasping a little for air, eyes closed. Harry smooths Draco’s hair off his forehead and watches as those silvery eyes open just a crack.

“That was brilliant,” Draco mumbles. Harry laughs softly as Draco heaves in a breath and opens his eyes completely, staring straight into Harry’s. “You make me feel so good.”

“That’s the point,” Harry chuckles. He feels his throat catch just a little as Draco reaches over and runs a hand down his body to his cock. He’s still achingly hard but he certainly doesn’t want Draco to feel like he has to reciprocate.

“Draco, you don’t have to…”

“I don’t think I’m up for sucking you off, but maybe something else?”

“What are you thinking?”

Draco’s cheeks pink and he runs his fingers lightly up and down Harry’s cock. Harry moans at the touch. He’s fine with anything Draco wants to give him.

“Fingers?”

“Mmm yes. I have toys, too, if you want.”

“Yeah.”

Harry reaches down and the warded drawer clicks open at his touch. A tug and a silent summoning spell later, a vial of lube, a set of anal beads, and a vibrating dildo are in his hand. It’s not the charmed one he uses on himself, but it’ll be good for Draco’s first time using one on someone else. He sets them beside him on the bed and rolls over to kiss Draco softly.

Draco deepens the kiss and Harry obligingly opens his mouth, wondering if Draco can taste himself in Harry’s mouth. Harry finds himself on his back, being pushed into the mattress by Draco’s weight, tongue in his mouth, fingers in his hair, and a hand on his chest.

Draco breaks the kiss and lifts his weight off Harry’s body, rolling to lay beside him and Harry shivers at the loss of contact and body heat. Draco tugs Harry over to lay on his stomach and gently prompts him to raise on his knees. Harry willingly and rapidly obliges, canting his arse into the air and closing his eyes as he pillows his head on his arms. He feels Draco’s fingers run down his body and sees one of Draco’s legs slide into view as Draco sits behind him. Firm, warm hands caress his arse, moving to hold his hips, and Harry feels hot lips kiss him gently where the hands were just moments before.

One of Draco’s palms leaves Harry’s hip, and Harry hears a distinct pop as the phial of lube is opened. His breath quickens in anticipation, waiting for the touch of Draco’s fingers, and gasping when he instead feels oil — warm oil — drip gently into his crevice. A rush of affection courses through his body for Draco and his little considerate gestures. Warming the oil is such a small thing, but Harry enjoys knowing someone cares enough to pay attention to the little details.

Draco’s warm hands are back on his arse and then he’s gently spread apart.

“Merlin, Harry,” Draco breathes, his voice laced with awe, making Harry blush. “You look fantastic like this. _Fuck_.”

One hand releases its hold and there’s a pause before Harry gasps as the pad of a finger touches his hole. Draco’s tender circular motions are surely meant to help him relax, but in reality, they only make Harry more aware of how badly he wants Draco’s fingers inside him.

“I’m ready, Draco. _Please…”_ Harry whimpers desperately. ”I want to feel you inside me.”

The tender motion becomes firmer before Draco’s finger finally slips inside. Harry gasps and immediately presses back, eager for that delicious feeling to continue. Fuck, his cock is already leaking and Draco only has one fingertip in. Merlin, it’s so much better when it’s — nggh… — Draco’s finger inside him instead of his own.

Slow, slick, and maddening, Draco’s finger slides in deeper, exploring his insides, and as the finger crooks, Harry cries out.

“Mmm,” Draco hums in satisfaction. “There it is.”

Draco gently strokes Harry’s prostate, sliding his finger in and out at a nearly agonisingly slow pace.

“More, Draco. More.”

Suddenly, Harry is empty, but before he’s given time to complain there’s the delicious stretch of two fingers breaching his entrance. Draco strokes his prostate again as he eases both fingers in and gently stretches Harry open.

Two fingers become three, slow pace becomes more frantic, and Harry is moaning Draco’s name.

“Ready for more?”

“Merlin, yes, Draco.”

Draco withdraws obligingly, for a moment leaving Harry achingly empty again. Harry whimpers at the loss, shivering as he feels the wide, blunt head of the dildo prodding at his entrance.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, ok?”

“Mm-hmm…” Harry nods.

The stretch of the dildo is accompanied by a pleasant burn, and Harry revels in Draco’s indecent moan from behind him. When the base brushes his arse, Harry presses back against it and is grateful for just a moment to adjust.

“I’m ready,” Harry groans. “You can go hard, you won’t hurt me. I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.”

Draco takes Harry at his word and slides the dildo almost all the way out before thrusting it back in, hard and quick, over and over again. Harry rocks his hips back to meet each press. He’s close. So fucking close. He frees one arm and reaches for his cock while Draco continues to slam the toy into him and he pulls once, twice, three times before he comes, shouting Draco’s name and shaking with his release.

The dildo stops, buried deep inside him, and Harry hears a moan behind him, combined with the sound of Draco taking himself in his lubed hand at a frantic speed. Before long, Harry feels a hot splash against his arse as Draco cums on him.

A few cleaning charms later, they’re under the sheets with Draco’s chest flush against Harry’s back, both drifting into a sated, satisfied sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry drifts halfway into consciousness the next morning and his sleep-addled brain wonders, blearily, which of the kids had climbed into his bed last night. He cracks his eyes open and the blond head next to him certainly doesn’t belong to any of the kids. As the haze of sleep lifts fully from him, the previous night comes flooding back and he smiles contentedly

Careful not to dislodge the arm Draco has thrown around his middle, Harry slides on his glasses and studies Draco’s sleeping form. A warmth spreads in Harry’s chest as he gazes at Draco’s handsome face, relaxed in sleep. Gorgeous blond hair stands out in contrast to the blue sheets on Harry’s bed. The expanse of pale skin on display is absolutely delicious.

_Is it too soon to think I might be falling in love with this man?_

Last night had been wonderful. He and Draco are certainly as dynamic and compatible in the bedroom as they have found themselves to be outside of it, and Harry finds himself wanting to wake up like this every morning, not just today. He has been afraid it would feel uncomfortable, waking up next to someone again, but instead, he is comforted and…happy. Harry chuckles lightly to himself at the thought. Draco Malfoy makes him _happy_.

Harry hopes fervently that Draco feels the same way he does. They’ve been open so far about everything and they seem to be on the same page, but Harry is falling even harder than he had been aware of, and that’s just a little bit scary. The hand over Harry’s abdomen moves slightly and Harry watches sleepy grey eyes open.

“Mmmmm. Good morning, love,” a sleepy Draco mutters and Harry’s heart flutters. _Love. He said Love._ A few moments later Draco’s eyes widen as he realises what he’s said, but Harry moves swiftly to cup Draco’s ivory cheek.

“Good morning to you, too. Did you sleep all right?”

“Wonderfully, actually.” Draco snuggles closer, and Harry happily wraps an arm around him. “Last night was brilliant, but waking up next to you might be even better.”

“I find I’m quite enjoying it myself.” Harry is sure he looks ridiculous with the sappy smile he can’t wipe off his face. He kisses Draco gently on the lips. “I could get used to this.”

Somehow, they both manage to drag themselves from bed and tug on their discarded pants before making their way into the kitchen. Harry snuggles against Draco’s chest as they wait for the coffee to brew. Draco smells of sex and Harry’s bedsheets, and he finds that incredibly enticing. A gentle hand comes to lift his chin, grey eyes shining with affection as Draco kisses him full on the mouth.

Harry returns the kiss enthusiastically, then there are hands slipping under waistbands and cupping bare arses and Harry shifts Draco backwards until his thighs meet the table. Desire is pooling in Harry’s groin and he presses deeper into the kiss, slowly laying Draco down onto the table, legs hanging off the edge, and places a palm on either side of the man’s torso.

Draco smirks up at him. “Are you intending to have me for breakfast?”

_Yes._

“I was rather hoping you’d let me,” Harry says huskily. Draco’s eyes widen and then a slow, easy grin spreads on his face. Harry’s brain nearly short-circuits just thinking about all the things he would like to do to Draco, laid out on his kitchen table. But more than anything, he wants Draco on that table, arse in the air.

“I think I might be amenable,” Draco drawls, winking up at Harry.

Harry swallows hard and feels his nerves rising. He’s never done this with anyone, but he knows what he wants — provided Draco is comfortable with it, as well.

“What…what if I told you you’ll have to turn over for me to get what I’m thinking of?”

Silver eyes are suddenly mostly black with arousal and Harry catches Draco’s whispered “fuck” before he answers.

“I think I would like to try that.” Draco looks surprised by how raspy his voice comes out.

Harry grins and tugs Draco to his feet, reaching for the waistband of Draco’s pants and sliding them down. He captures Draco’s lips in a kiss as the pants fall to the floor.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asks against Draco’s kiss-swollen lips.

“A little bit.”

“Me, too. But I want to do this with you. Turn around and bend over.”

Draco complies and Harry slides his arms between Draco’s legs, carefully cradling a thigh in each elbow. Draco stretches out on the tabletop, reaching for the far side of the table and Harry lifts Draco’s knees onto the polished wood surface. He kisses down the curve of Draco’s perfect arse, trying to settle both his nerves and his excitement. Draco takes a deep breath, wrapping his hands around the far edge of the table and pushing his arse gently against Harry’s lips.

Silently, Harry summons the chair to come up behind him and he sinks down. Draco shudders as Harry’s cleaning charm passes through him and his hands snake under Draco’s thighs, around his hips, to each grip one cheek of that delectable arse.

“Still ok?”

“Merlin, yes.”

Harry spreads Draco’s arse apart, exposing his furled hole. Leaning forward, he eases Draco’s arse back just slightly and licks from the back of his balls up to his hole. Every bit of Draco is delicious and Harry finds he is already developing a taste for him, and him alone.

“Fuck!” Draco shouts and Harry pulls back, startled and wondering what could be wrong. Draco hisses at the loss of contact. “Salazar, don’t stop!”

Harry smirks and laves over Draco’s entrance again, swirling his tongue around it before beginning to lick in a slow, repeated rhythm.

Nonsense begins falling from Draco’s mouth, and his swelling cock is brushing against Harry’s arm.

“Fuck, Harry…yes, hole…good, so good…more.”

Harry works his way around Draco’s opening, tongue coaxing him to loosen up with short firm licks. Draco is no longer using words, but his body speaks for him, pressing back against Harry’s face, moaning without restraint.

Harry moans against Draco’s arse and buries his face even deeper into Draco’s crevice. He didn’t expect to enjoy this quite so much, but he does. Merlin, he does. Gingerly, he stiffens his tongue and presses against Draco’s hole. The pleased moan from Draco encourages him and he presses harder, both of them gasping as Harry’s tongue slips past that ring of muscle and inside Draco. Harry can’t hold back a throaty groan of pleasure with the tip of his tongue surrounded by Draco’s velvety heat.

Slow, steady thrusts of Harry’s tongue inside Draco’s arse set him to writhing under Harry’s ministrations. Emboldened, Harry works deeper, until Draco’s arse is dripping wet from Harry’s tongue and he is bucking back against Harry’s face. Enveloping Draco’s hard swollen cock in one fist, he begins to stroke it in time with the thrusts of his tongue.

Draco’s body is strung tight as a drum and the filthy sounds he’s making…Harry’s pretty sure he will never hear anything more erotic than what is currently coming out of Draco’s mouth. Harry twists his wrist at the top of his next tug on Draco’s cock and then Draco’s cumming all over the table in thick ropes. Draco collapses onto the table, panting.

Harry stands with a rough groan, pushing his own pants over his hips and grasping his aching cock. He tugs once…twice…three times and then he’s spilling onto Draco’s arse. He looks down to see Draco’s head craned around, watching him cum. He sees nothing but satiation and satisfaction written in those warm grey eyes.

* * *

“Harry!” Draco calls, “Someone’s in the Floo!”

Harry walks in from the kitchen, two cups of tea in hand, setting one on the table. “It’s probably Hermione. I’m not answering, seeing as we’re both in our pants.” He laughs, envisioning Hermione’s reaction if she were to see Draco and Harry lying on the couch, in their pants, looking well-shagged and drinking tea. He arches an eyebrow at Draco, who is obviously having a similar mental image, and bursts out laughing. “She’ll text if I don’t open the Floo.”

Harry hands Draco the other cup of tea, which he holds aloft while Harry settles between his legs on the couch. Harry lays back against Draco’s chest and tangles their legs together.

“Comfy?” Draco asks, lowering his tea from overhead to take a sip.

“Mm-hmm,” Harry smiles and closes his eyes. Harry has been pleased with how easily he and Draco bridged from friends to dating and he’s even more thrilled with how compatible they seem to be sexually. Harry had been afraid reality wouldn’t live up to his fantasy and instead, it seems to be even better.

Sliding a hand around to rest on Harry’s abdomen, Draco sighs contentedly.

“All of this feels surreal.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Harry chuckles. “I’m pretty happy about it, though.”

“Me, too. I just didn’t foresee any situation where I’d have a…” At Draco’s pause, Harry cranes his neck and looks up at him inquiringly. Draco looks down at him and shrugs. “I’m not sure what to call this.” 

“We don’t have to label it if we don’t want to. I think we’re both on the same page.”

Harry returns to rest against Draco’s chest. He’s pretty sure he’s in whatever this is for the long haul, and he’s pretty sure Draco is, too. But what do two grown men, both single fathers, call something like this?

“Are we?”

Harry detects just a hint of doubt in Draco's voice, and wonders if it's because Draco thinks Harry is _more_ into him than Draco is into Harry, or _less_.

“Well, what page are you on?” Harry asks.

Harry lays a hand over the one Draco has resting on his stomach and laces their fingers together. Harry wants this relationship to go well and to last. He knows it’s better to have this all out in the open, but there’s always something unnerving about making yourself vulnerable like this.

Draco heaves a nervous-sounding breath and sets his tea beside the couch, wrapping both arms around Harry. “I’m on the page where I’m a little nervous about how right everything feels, but I want this to be serious between us. And for the long term, if it keeps going so well. And somehow that’s scary, but also pretty great?”

There’s no stopping the grin that spreads on Harry’s face. “Then, yes. Same page.” He feels tension go out of Draco underneath him and finds himself pulled tighter into Draco’s chest. It’s clearly a relief for both of them. “Do you _want_ to put a label on it?”

“I don’t necessarily _need_ a label, but I’m not opposed to one,” Draco says, voice sounding much more relaxed to Harry’s ears. “I just…I feel like it’s more than ‘I’m dating someone’, but boyfriend sounds so…Hogwarts.” Harry doesn’t even have to look at Draco to know his nose is wrinkled at the thought. Harry snickers.

“I agree. Especially considering my son is at Hogwarts with his first boyfriend right now. We could try…significant other? Sweetheart? Beau? Partner?”

Draco scoffs. “I am _not_ telling people I have a sweetheart.”

Harry can’t resist the urge to tease Draco, just a little. “How about a snookums?”

“No,” Draco says flatly.

“Pookie?”

“No!”

“Buttercup?”

“Harry!” Draco is shaking with laughter underneath him now.

Harry joins the laughter. “Ok, ok. What do you prefer?”

Draco tightens the arm he has around Harry. “Partner,” he says softly. “I’d like to call you my partner.” Warmth spreads through Harry’s chest. Not only does Draco feel the same way he does about the seriousness of their relationship; he has also chosen a label that carries a lot more weight than “someone I’m dating”, or maybe even “boyfriend.”

“I’d like that very much.” Harry tips his head again and offers up his mouth to Draco, who immediately bends his head to kiss him back. Harry pulls away gently.

“You realise we can’t actually tell much of anyone right now, unless we want the press to make an announcement for us.”

Harry rolls his eyes. He hates that he has to hide their happiness and their relationship because a bunch of nosy reporters can’t mind their own business. He knows that when they do come out publicly, it’s going to be front-page news.

“Agreed. I hate having to hide it, but I don’t want the kids to hear about this from the press,” Draco sighs.

“We can tell them at the Christmas holiday?” Harry lifts it into a question, just in case Draco has other plans. “They’ll be home the second week of December.”

“That works. Until then, we don’t have to name names if we say we’ve got a partner, but I also don’t intend on hiding the fact that I’m in a relationship if the issue comes up.” Draco pauses. “I assume you’ll tell Hermione?”

“I’d like to.” Harry does want to tell Hermione, but he also doesn’t want to make Draco uncomfortable. “She already knows we’re dating. She’ll ask how it’s going. And I can trust her.”

“I’d like to be able to tell Blaise.” Harry nods as Draco continues. “We keep in regular touch, even though he’s been in Italy. His daughter just started Hogwarts, so he’s looking at moving back to England.”

“I don’t think Blaise or Hermione would be a problem.” Harry’s not worried about either of their close friends outing them before they are ready. He’s much more worried about their co-workers, or a wizard spotting them in Muggle London. “Do you think anyone at work will figure it out?”

Draco scowls. “I hope Claire figures it out. Maybe she’ll keep her hands off you.”

Laughing, Harry shakes his head. He finds Draco’s fits of jealousy over Claire rather endearing. Claire wouldn’t be his type even if he wasn’t involved with Draco. “Even if she does, we just won’t confirm or deny. We only have to make it six weeks, and they’re already used to seeing us together. For all we know, they already assume we’re together.”

Draco shrugs. “Well, now we are, so it won’t matter one way or the other.”

“I don’t suppose it will.” Harry reaches up on the back of the couch and grabs the blanket he keeps there. Spreading it over them, Harry settles against Draco’s chest and closes his eyes as Draco’s strong arms slide around to hold him. He can’t remember the last time he felt this content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene on the kitchen table is based on this brilliant art by anokaba. [Breakfast Is For Eating In](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499070)


	8. Chapter 8

Harry sighs and hits the reset button on his Magiscope again. He’s beyond frustrated, and the other three members of his lab team left almost an hour and a half ago. Having had such a wonderful weekend with Draco, today has been completely awful. After two mornings waking in Draco's arms, waking up alone this morning started the whole day off on a sour note. The morning had seen Harry and his lab mates in training for their new project, so he had been mentally exhausted long before noon. Then, his entire department had to have a working lunch for a meeting that could have been a memo, and now, he can’t seem to untangle the mass of magic in this core imaging without screwing up the whole thing. Pressing his face to the eyepiece, he lifts his wand to try again.

Forty-five minutes later, the core imaging shows agitation of malevolent magic again and Harry drops his wand to the countertop of his workstation with a sigh.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Before he can reach for the reset button again, he feels hands on his waist. Harry jumps and turns around. Draco’s beautiful silver eyes are gazing at his face with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry waves a hand at the door to the lab. He waits to hear the door click shut and lock, then buries his face in Draco’s neck. Draco smells like home. Arms hold him tightly and he takes a moment just to breathe.

“I’ve been working on this core imaging most of the afternoon. It’s fallen apart a dozen times at least, and I haven’t been able to figure out why.” Harry heaves a deep sigh. ”I wanted to have it sent over to the Curse-Breakers by the time I left today, but it just collapsed. Again.”

Draco’s fingers caress his cheek.

“You look exhausted, Harry.”

“I AM exhausted,” Harry admits. “I slept horribly last night without you. We had training for our new project this morning, then a working lunch, then this imaging disaster all afternoon.”

“You’re not the only one who didn’t sleep well.” Harry looks more intently at Draco’s eyes and notices the tired lines there. “Why don’t we go get some takeaway and watch a film on the couch?”

Harry hesitates. He really wants to finish this last core imaging before he leaves.

“Harry.” Draco’s voice is firm now. “You’re exhausted and you’re frustrated. It’s getting late. You’re not going to be able to focus tonight. Let me take you home.”

“All right.” Harry eases away from Draco and picks up his wand. Seeing no sense in putting a stasis over the mess he’s created, he resets his Magiscope for tomorrow and wards his station. Gathering his jacket, he turns to join Draco and they head for the door. “How did you even know I was still here?”

Draco slips an arm around Harry’s waist and squeezes gently. “You haven’t looked at your mobile, have you?” he asks with amusement in his voice.

“Nope. It’s in my jacket pocket, on silent.” Harry pats his jacket pocket.

“I texted you at 5:30 and told you to come by my lab on the way out so I could see you.” Draco shakes his head and opens the door for Harry. “I got tired of waiting.”

“Shit, Draco. I’m sorry.” Harry locks the lab and touches Draco’s hip gently as they turn for the elevators. He hadn’t meant to make Draco wait on him; he’d just been so focused on his work, he hadn’t wanted to quit.

“It’s ok. You were working.” Draco doesn’t sound at all irritated and Harry is hopeful that Draco isn’t upset. “Does something sound good for dinner?”

Harry hesitates. Yes, he’s hungry, but his primary concern is less what’s for dinner and more not having another awful night. He takes advantage of pressing the button to call the elevator to gather his thoughts and maybe a little of his courage. He looks around to make sure they’re alone and reaches to squeeze Draco’s hand.

“Will you stay tonight? Please?”

The adoring look in Draco’s eyes nearly melts him. “You want me to stay?”

“Yes.” Harry wants him to stay tonight and any night after. He doesn’t know exactly what that means, yet… But at least he can have Draco tonight.

“I’ll Apparate to my flat, get what I need, and pick up some dinner.” Draco looks Harry over as they step into the elevator.

“That sounds brilliant. I think I’ll take a shower and try to unwind.” Harry eyes Draco, unsure how this next bit of information is going to go over. “You can Apparate straight in if you don’t want to find a Floo. I added you to the family wards.”

The thrilled smile on Draco’s face tells Harry everything he needs to know. The doors open and they make their way to the Apparition area. Harry wants to kiss Draco before they part, but even though the lobby seems empty, that’s just not a good idea. He smiles warmly at Draco. “I’ll see you soon.”

Draco smiles in return, nods, and they both Apparate away.

* * *

Harry is standing, eyes closed, letting the steaming hot water course down his back when he hears the door to the bathroom open.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice fills the shower.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m still in here.” Harry reaches for the shampoo so he can finish up and join Draco for dinner.

“Want company?”

Harry’s hand moves away from the shampoo. Maybe it’s not time to finish up, after all. A hot, wet, naked Draco sounds like a much better option, anyhow.

“Sure.”

Harry hears Draco moving and a few moments later, the curtain shifts, Draco joining him under the spray. _Merlin, he looks even better after a day without him._ Harry draws Draco close, pulling him under the stream of water and lifting his mouth for a kiss.

Draco covers Harry’s mouth with his own and kisses him lazily, hands on Harry’s hips. “Merlin, I missed you. I feel utterly ridiculous saying that. It was less than twenty-four hours, but I missed you.”

“I feel the same way.” Harry kisses down Draco’s neck, running his hands down Draco’s water-slickened chest. The soft moan from Draco goes straight to Harry’s groin. Yes, he’s exhausted, but he’s also not dead. He feels his cock begin to swell as he attaches his mouth to the spot where the graceful slope of Draco’s neck meets his shoulder. Draco clearly notices as well and Harry feels Draco reach towards the soap, then a hand wrapping around his cock.

“Draco…” Harry’s tired, and while he doesn’t want to turn down whatever Draco has in mind, he’s also not feeling up to being much of an active participant.

“It’s all right, Harry.” Draco strokes Harry slowly, bringing him to full hardness. “I know you’re tired. I’ll take care of both of us.”

Harry isn’t sure if Draco means orgasms or otherwise, but he nods into Draco’s neck. “Ok. Yeah…ok.” Harry’s finding it incredibly reassuring to have someone taking care of him. He’s always been on his own or been the caretaker, but this…this having someone looking at him and knowing his needs and taking care of them with no expectations of reciprocation…makes him feel wonderful and cherished and…loved.

Draco shifts and Harry feels Draco’s hard cock against his own. Draco wraps his hand around them both and begins stroking them together. Harry moans at the sensation of soap and cocks and hand all sliding together.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he whispers into Draco’s neck.

“Me, neither. It’s all right, Harry. Just relax.” Draco’s hand moves quicker, and Harry relaxes against Draco’s shoulder, gently sucking on his earlobe. It’s not long before Harry is moaning and cumming and his knees are nearly giving out. Draco’s strong arm draws Harry against his chest and holds him upright as Draco tips over the edge, their releases swirling together and away down the drain.

There’s a soft kiss on Harry’s lips, and Draco’s hands are washing Harry’s hair as well as his own, then washing Harry’s body and guiding him under the water for a rinse. Draco shuts off the water and reaches outside the shower before handing Harry a towel. Harry buries his face in the soft, plush material only to discover that Draco had apparently cast a warming charm over it before he got in the shower. _This man._ Harry shakes his head.

“Thank you.” He looks to Draco, who has his own towel slung around his hips.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Draco winks at Harry as they step from the shower. “Come on. I left dinner on the dresser under a stasis.”

Harry pads after Draco into the bedroom. He smiles softly when he sees a bag from the first Indian place they went to together.

“Dinner in bed?” he asks Draco.

“Works for me.” 

Dinner eaten and remnants vanished, Harry lifts a hand to extinguish the lights. A sweet goodnight kiss and Harry finds himself gathered into Draco’s arms as Draco fits himself to Harry’s back. He drifts off to sleep wishing he could fall asleep like this every night.

* * *

Harry drifts into consciousness and stretches one arm to the other side of the bed, eyes still closed. His hand finds a warm thigh and there’s a gentle chuckle. Since Monday, he and Draco haven’t spent a night apart. Nothing has been said since that first night Harry asked him to stay — it's just become how it is.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Draco says affectionately.

“Time is it?” Harry mutters.

“Just after ten.” Harry feels Draco shift and then there’s a hand carding through his hair. “I figured since it’s the start of our 4-day weekend, you could finally get some of that sleep you need.”

Harry groans softly as his sleep-addled brain starts slotting everything into place. It’s Halloween. CRMM is closed for Halloween and the day after, which happens to be a Thursday and Friday this year, to allow their employees to attend the festivities. But the holiday holds a much darker meaning for Harry.

It’s always been hard since it’s the day his parents died, but since Ginny’s death, it’s always seemed just a little more difficult. He never wanted his kids to grow up without one of their parents, and he’s terrified of them ending up with no parents at all. The day just weighs heavily on him.

Harry finally blinks his eyes open and gropes for his glasses. Sliding them on, he finds Draco sitting against the headboard, wire-rimmed reading glasses on, and a book in his lap. Harry loves Draco in those glasses. They somehow just make him look that much more handsome.

“How long have you been up?”

“Since about seven.” Draco reaches to the bedside table and offers Harry a to-go cup from Costa and a paper bag from his favourite bakery. “I’ve been out and come back already.”

Harry pushes himself into a seated position and gratefully accepts the cup. Bringing it to his lips, he inhales the rich aroma before taking a sip. The warmth that spreads in his belly is partially from the coffee, and partially because Draco has remembered exactly what he drinks from Costa from the _one_ time they’ve been together. And that was the day they picked out Draco’s television, well before their first date. 

“You, Draco Malfoy, are the best partner a man could ever ask for. Thank you.”

Draco’s cheeks pink and Harry kisses him quickly.

“I know today isn’t your favourite, so I thought maybe it would help.”

“It does. Just having you here helps. This,” Harry raises his cup slightly, “is just icing on the cake.”

Draco closes his book and places it on his nightstand with his glasses, and Harry settles against him. Harry feels Draco press a kiss to the top of his head.

“How do you want to spend today? What will make it easier on you?”

Draco’s genuine concern warms Harry’s heart. There may be a lot of bad things about today, but Draco here beside him, supportive and caring, is _something good_. Never in a million years would he have imagined Draco to be so protective and attentive, but he is, and Harry is finding it to be the balm he never knew his battered soul needed. He only hopes he can care for Draco as meticulously as Draco is caring for him.

“Being with you will help. I always avoid the celebrations and the general public, but spending the day at home with you sounds wonderful.”

“We can decide what we want to do as we go, then.”

* * *

Sweaty and laughing, Harry yanks open the door to the Quidditch locker room and dashes inside. A quick glance over his shoulder reveals that Draco is gaining on him. He drops his broom on the bench and grasps the fluttering Snitch tighter as he sprints for the storage room to take refuge.

Draco barrels in behind him.

“You absolute cheat!” Draco’s laughing voice booms. Harry hears the slap of Draco’s feet as he hurtles after him.

Just as Harry reaches for the doorknob to the storage room, he’s yanked back by his shirt and wrapped in strong arms. He wriggles and struggles half-heartedly to try and escape, laughing so hard he’s nearly crying. He feels Draco’s chest shaking as his laugh rolls through the room.

Harry finally turns himself around in Draco’s arms. Still laughing, he looks at Draco’s red face and sparkling eyes and worms his arm up between them, holding the fluttering Snitch tightly in his hand.

“Missing something?” Harry tries to smirk but bursts out laughing all over again.

Draco tries and fails to suppress his laughter, shaking his head.

“Harry, you can’t just do that when I’m about to beat you to the Snitch!”

“But it worked!”

“Of course it worked! You sent a _Wingardium_ _Leviosa_! At my pants!” Draco is struggling to maintain any kind of serious expression, his face contorting into various mixes of bemused, aghast, angry, and laughing. He finally cracks and snorts — SNORTS! — and sags against Harry, laughing hysterically.

Harry loses his composure completely at that and what escapes can’t be called anything but a fit of the giggles.

“You never said Wizarding Wedgies were off limits!” he wheezes, arms going around Draco and holding him upright.

“Because we’re grown men!” Draco finally regains enough of his composure to form words.

“Your point?” Harry fails to hold back a final giggle.

Draco quirks an eyebrow at Harry.

“I’m sorry?” Harry tries, desperately working to school his features into something that might pass for remorse.

“No, you’re not. Not even a little bit,” Draco replies, rolling his eyes. 

“You’re right. I’m not. The look on your face was totally worth it.” Harry runs his hand through Draco’s hair. “And I might be persuaded to give up the Snitch for a kiss.”

Draco takes Harry’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply. Harry moans softly and runs his tongue along Draco’s lips, asking for entry. Soft lips slip apart and Harry’s tongue is surrounded by the taste he’s come to know as uniquely Draco’s. His mouth is explored in turn, and Harry’s mind is whirring as his body comes alive as it always does at Draco’s touch. He pulls back and Draco looks at him quizzically.

“Let’s go up to the house and get cleaned up. Quidditch gear is far too restrictive for what I have in mind.” Harry raises the Snitch in front of his face, winks at Draco, and lets go.

Draco’s hand snaps up and catches the Snitch before it can flutter away.

“That sounds like a good idea to me.”

Under the hot stream of the shower, Harry resumes his exploration of Draco’s mouth between shampoo and soap. Draco’s hands slip to his hips and pull him closer. Hard cocks rub together and desire jolts through Harry. The buzz in his mind that had been there in the locker room returns. _I’m ready. I want him. I don’t want to stop._

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

Harry takes a deep breath.

“Harry? Is something wrong?”

Harry sees worry in Draco’s eyes. _Shit_.

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He smiles in an effort to ease Draco’s mind. “I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah. Let’s rinse off? I don’t really want to have this chat in the shower.” Harry takes in the uncertain look in Draco’s face. _Well. I’ve mucked this up._ He kisses Draco softly. “Nothing’s wrong. We are okay. More than okay, actually.”

Draco’s face relaxes slightly as Harry shuts off the water and reaches out to grab their towels.

Naked and dry on the bed, Harry lays his head on Draco’s chest and wraps an arm around his middle.

“I feel like I’ve already screwed this up.” He chuckles softly.

“You’ve not screwed up anything, Harry.” Draco exhales. He runs his fingers along the arm that Harry’s thrown over him. “I just want to know what’s on your mind.”

“I’m happy with you — with us — you know. Actually happy.” Hardy glances up at Draco’s face and sees him smile.

“I’m happy, too. Happier than I even thought I’d be, romantically speaking.”

Harry’s heart swells. He really wants Draco to be just as happy as he is and so far, it seems that he is. Harry’s always had a hard time accepting good things when they happen to him because they’re so often ripped away, but he’s trying — hoping — to see that Draco can be his _something good_ for a long time.

“I know we talked through everything related to the bedroom the other night, but I have a couple of things I want to…revisit, I guess.”

Draco laughs softly. “Absolutely nothing we’ve done in the bedroom…or, er, anywhere else…has been bad from my end. Merlin, especially that morning on the kitchen table. That was fantastic.”

“Mmm. Same.” Harry’s mouth waters at the memory of licking his way into Draco’s heat whilst Draco was spread open on the tabletop. “You…you make my body feel good in a way that literally no one has before. It’s wonderful. I have only one complaint about our sex life, actually.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “What might that be?”

Harry shifts so he can look at Draco’s face. “I want more.” Harry’s heart is hammering as he watches Draco’s face. Harry knows he is ready, but he has no way of knowing if Draco’s there yet.

One corner of Draco’s mouth turns up and he looks pensive. “More as in what, exactly?”

Harry traces a random pattern on Draco’s chest and tries to get his hammering nerves under control.

“At the risk of sounding completely crass…I’d very much like your cock in my arse.”

Harry both hears and feels Draco’s breath hitch. His stomach drops and he’s certain he’s pushed too far too fast.

“If you’re not ready, it’s—“

Draco silences Harry with a quick peck on the lips.

“No, Harry. It’s not that at all. I just…Salazar, yes. I’d love nothing more.” He smiles wryly. “It’s just been a long time.”

“It’s been a long time for me, too.” Harry is flooded with relief at the fact that Draco isn’t upset at the proposition. A thrill runs through his groin, hoping that before the weekend is out, maybe even tonight, Draco will be buried inside him.

Draco smiles. “We’ll figure it out together.”

* * *

Soft strains drift into the kitchen as Harry slides the last two plates into the cabinet. He smiles to himself and moves to wipe the counters so he can join Draco. They had cooked dinner together and — between kisses and soft touches — had managed to put together a fantastic meal. Draco had run a foot up and down his calf as they ate, as if he couldn’t stand for them not to be touching. It had been wonderful and intimate, even if it was nothing more than preparing a meal and eating it.

Harry neatly folds the dishtowel, places it on the counter, and follows the swell of the music into the living room. The fire is crackling, and Harry notices that Draco’s pushed the couch back and moved the coffee table aside. Draco turns from setting down a bottle of wine and steps towards Harry as he comes in.

Draco’s eyes say so much and Harry is getting better at interpreting their silvery depths. Tonight, he sees contentment and affection, but also desire. Harry’s own desire pools low in his belly as he approaches Draco. And then he’s wrapped in those familiar arms and twining his own against a muscular back and they’re moving gently to the music. It’s not quite dancing, more just holding each other close and swaying slightly, but Harry finds he likes it very much.

He buries his nose in the crook of Draco’s neck and lets out a soft, contented “hmmm.” He feels Draco’s hand lift from his back to card into his hair. Soft, gentle strokes nearly make him melt. He presses lightly into the touch and Draco chuckles softly.

The hand slips from his hair under his chin and Harry finds his face being tipped up for a kiss. Slow and soft, Draco covers Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry feels Draco’s tongue gently run along his lips and he grants him entry. The heat pooling in Harry’s belly moves lower, and he’s straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Draco eases back, taking Harry’s face in both his hands and studying his face. Draco’s eyes are molten silver with desire, and Harry could absolutely lose himself in them. Draco presses a soft kiss to Harry’s lips and then steps away, pulling a plush blanket from the couch and spreading it on the floor in front of the fire.

“Here. Let's get comfortable.”

Harry sinks onto the blanket, impressed immediately with the extensive cushioning charms Draco has put on it. It’s like laying down on a soft bed. Draco settles beside him and guides him gently onto his back. Harry reaches for Draco but Draco grasps his hands and lays them back at his sides.

“Tonight, it’s my turn. I want to take care of you.”

Harry closes his eyes to fight the lump that springs uninvited into his throat. It’s hard for him to lay back and just let himself be taken care of. He’s so used to being the one taking care of someone else. He opens his eyes to meet Draco’s grey ones and nods.

Raising one hand, Harry wards the Floo. He looks at Draco and smirks.

“Sometimes Hermione pops by to check on me on Halloween. And…well…”

Draco chuckles.

“The first time I reacquaint myself with Granger as your partner should probably not be in flagrante.”

“I don’t think that’s an impression she would appreciate.”

Draco places a knee on either side of Harry’s hips and leans forward, leaving a trail of kisses from behind his ear and down his throat. Firm hands stroke down over his soft t-shirt and dip under, sliding it up. Lips gently suck in the curve of his neck, and Harry jumps when Draco softly pinches and rolls his nipples beneath his shirt.

“Arms up,” Draco says softly and Harry immediately obeys. He hears his shirt softly fall to the floor and stares up as Draco removes his own. Merlin, he cannot get enough of looking at this man. He takes in Draco’s pale, muscled torso. He’s not broad, but he’s solid and Harry finds him absolutely gorgeous.

Fingers tweak his nipples again as hands run down to his hips and grip.

“You’ll tell me if something is uncomfortable? Or you don’t like it?” Draco gazes at his eyes intently and waits for an answer.

“Of course.”

Draco’s nimble fingers pop the button on Harry’s jeans. Harry lifts his hips without being asked. He gasps softly as Draco hooks his fingers under the elastic of his pants and slides them down along with his jeans. Harry’s cock springs free, bouncing softly against his stomach.

“Turn over,” Draco requests.

Harry turns to his stomach and adjusts himself comfortably, face down on top of his forearms. He hears the button on Draco’s jeans pop open and the soft purr as the zipper falls, then the soft rustle of fabric as Draco divests himself of his clothes. He feels Draco straddle his body and then settle on his arse.

There’s a soft “pop” and then the smell of something citrusy reaches Harry’s nose. Draco shifts and two warm, slick hands are on Harry’s shoulders. Draco’s thumbs work into the muscles at Harry’s shoulders. He groans.

“Fuck, Draco.”

Draco’s hands still.

“Too much?”

“No, I just didn’t realise how tight my muscles are.” Harry shifts slightly. “Go on. It feels good.”

Draco continues his ministrations, working his way down Harry’s back, to the top of his arse. Harry is nearly a puddle on the blanket by the time he feels Draco shift and move off his arse.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice is dripping with desire. Harry bites back a moan so he can answer.

“Mm-hmm?”

Draco huffs a laugh. Harry turns his head to the side and opens one eye to look at Draco, who is sitting to Harry’s side, one hand on the small of Harry’s back.

“I’m nervous. I feel ridiculous, but I’m nervous.”

Harry smiles to himself. He’s nervous, too, even though he knows he wants this. He’s rapidly falling in love with Draco and as much as that scares him, it also thrills him, and he’s ready for this next step.

Harry rolls over and pushes himself to a sitting position next to Draco. He takes Draco’s hand and laces their fingers together, giving him a soft kiss.

“it’s ok, Draco. I’m nervous, too.” Harry takes a breath and decides just to say what he feels. “I am falling for you so hard and so fast it almost makes my head spin. But it also feels better than any relationship I’ve ever been in.”

Draco’s eyes widen as Harry speaks, his grip on Harry’s hand tightening.

“Merlin, Harry. I’m falling hard, too. And I’ve…fuck.” Draco pauses and closes his eyes. Harry runs his thumb gently along Draco’s finger and gives him the time he needs. “I’ve _never_ been in a relationship like this. It scares the shit out of me. But it’s wonderful and I want it to last and I want _you_. And I can’t tell you why I’m nervous, but I am.”

Harry moves in front of Draco and takes both of Draco’s hands in his own, eyes locked on to Draco’s beautiful silver orbs.

“I know we’ve already had this discussion, but I’m going to say it again. I haven’t had sex in twelve years, Draco. It’s going to be like the first time for both of us all over again and I’m ok with that. But I want this because I want this with _you_. I want _your_ fingers inside me. I want _you_ to open me up. And I want _your_ cock to fill me. Because this isn’t wanting sex for me, it’s wanting _you_.” Harry pauses and squeezes Draco’s hands. “But I only want this if you’re ready for it, too.”

“I do.” Draco’s voice has no hesitation and no hint of uncertainty. “I want this, and I want this with you. And somehow, that’s the most insane thing I’ve ever said, _and_ the thing I’m most sure about, all in one. I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

Harry kisses Draco softly. “It’ll be ok, Draco. It might be awkward and a little fumbling and not perfect this time, but we’ll keep practising.” Harry winks and squeezes Draco’s hands. “Better now?” Harry waits for Draco’s nod and then lets go of Draco’s hands, and stretches back out on the blanket.

He hears Draco take a steadying breath, then his legs are being nudged apart. Harry willingly makes room for Draco between his legs and moans softly as hands squeeze the globes of his arse lightly. The hands disappear and Harry hears that distinct “pop” of a vial opening again. He shivers as Draco’s cleaning charm moves through him, then warm lube is dripping into his crevice.

Anticipation builds in his belly, his cock swelling as he waits for Draco’s touch.

“Mmmm Draco, I’m so ready to feel you opening me.”

Draco’s hand caresses his hip and then pauses.

“Will you turn over? I want to see your face.”

Harry smiles as he rolls over, spreading his legs around Draco again and planting his feet on the blanket. He gazes at Draco, who leans up between his legs and kisses him softly. Draco gently pushes one of Harry’s knees to his chest. Harry feels incredibly on display, more so than the times Draco has fingered and rimmed him already, as Draco’s gaze rakes down Harry’s body and then focuses on his hole.

A single finger massages gently around Harry’s opening and he forces himself to relax. Draco looks up to his face and he nods.

“Nnngh.” Harry can’t bite back his moan as Draco’s finger slides inside. “Yes, Draco. Godric, I love having any part of you inside me.”

A slow, steady rhythm soon has Draco’s finger sliding fully in and out of Harry’s arse. Harry gasps as Draco crooks that finger to brush his prostate.

“Don’t you dare make me cum until you’re inside me.” He clenches softly around Draco’s finger. “More, Draco.”

Draco’s finger slides free and Harry watches more lube drip onto Draco’s hand before he feels two fingers press inside. He presses against Draco’s fingers and lifts his knee further towards his chest, opening himself more. Draco scissors and stretches Harry’s rim, causing a wonderful burn, before two fingers become three. Harry can’t stop the moans and sighs of pleasure as he is meticulously and thoroughly stretched.

“Draco?”

Draco’s fingers don’t stop as he looks up at Harry’s face. “Hmmm?”

“I’m ready.”

Harry huffs in displeasure as he finds himself empty. Draco slicks his cock, slow strokes covering himself in a generous amount of lube. Merlin, he’s more than ready to have Draco inside him, to be part of each other. He pulls both knees up to his chest and flushes as Draco openly ogles Harry’s body.

“Fuck, Harry. Do you have any idea how amazing you look like this? Spread open, hole dripping, waiting for my cock?” Harry feels the blunt press of Draco’s head against his hole. Draco pushes forward and Harry’s rim stretches and he feels Draco hesitate.

“It’s ok.” Harry murmurs. “I want you inside me. I’m ready.” Harry yelps as Draco presses more forcefully and his head moves past that ring of muscle at Harry’s entrance, but the burning immediately gives way to pleasure, feeling Draco’s cock inside his body, stretching him wide.

“Did I hurt you?” Draco looks mortified.

“No. Just a big stretch and some burning. I’m ok. You’re just…” Harry huffs. “You’ve got a big cock, Draco. I’ll be fine once I get adjusted.” Draco laughs softly and leans forward, kissing Harry, tongue dipping into his mouth.

Harry wraps a leg around Draco and gently urges him to keep pressing in. Harry has never felt so full and he carefully schools his face to keep the discomfort from being obvious. Draco slowly rocks, just a little at a time, and inches forward. Harry can focus on nothing but Draco’s tongue in his mouth and his cock splitting him in two. He finally feels the brush of Draco’s balls against his arse.

“Ok,” Harry says breathily. “Give me a minute.”

Harry presses out against Draco’s cock, waiting for the burning to settle and allow the pleasure to overtake the discomfort. Draco’s eyes are closed and Harry can’t tell if he’s trying not to cum or resisting the urge to move.

“Draco?”

One eye opens and suddenly Draco is suppressing a laugh. Harry fleetingly wonders what he finds funny as he rolls his hips experimentally. When he feels a rush of pleasure and no pain, he nods.

“You can move. Godric, you feel so good.”

“Thank fuck.” Draco’s lips are back on Harry’s as he slides slowly out until his head pulls against Harry’s rim, then thrusts gently back in, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Harry’s nerves are ablaze with pleasure as each press in gets easier. Draco shifts as he begins to move faster and Harry yelps.

“Just like that. That’s…nngh.” Harry trails off, seeing stars as Draco brushes his prostate with every stroke. He can already feel his balls tightening and his release building in his belly.

The groan that escapes Draco’s mouth is low and rumbling and full of pleasure. “Merlin, you feel amazing. I…I don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

Harry slides a hand between them to wrap around his own cock, tugging to match the rhythm of Draco’s cock in his arse. “Harder,” he gasps.

The smell of lube and sex and the slap of their flesh pushes Harry to the edge, but it’s Draco’s lips next to his ear, and the faint whisper of, “Cum for me, Harry. I want you to cum while I’m inside you,” that sends him spiralling into the abyss. His cock jerks and he feels rope after rope of milky cum spurting between them.

Draco cries out as Harry’s arse pulses around him and then he’s moving faster and deeper and harder until his thrusts become erratic.

Harry’s name falls from his lips, repeatedly, and then Harry is being filled as Draco empties inside him.

The full weight of Draco’s body presses against him and they are both gasping and panting. Harry can’t remember ever feeling so…satisfied? Complete? Whole? He doesn’t even know how to label it, but it’s wonderful. Everything has slotted firmly into place and he would be content to do this with Draco, to do _life_ with Draco, for the rest of his days.

They slowly drift back to earth and Harry gently pushes Draco’s head from the crook of his neck to kiss him softly.

“Are you all right, love?”

“Salazar, yes. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been better.” Draco kisses him again and then slowly pulls his cock from Harry’s arse and lays down beside him. Harry hisses and he knows his face screws up with pain.

“Are _you_ all right?”

“I’ll be sore, but I’ll be all right.” Harry waves a hand and a cleaning charm removes the evidence of his release from their chests and the slick of lube from his crevice. He leaves Draco’s release inside himself, though. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want to vanish that. He curls into Draco’s side, slinging an arm over his torso as Draco’s arm wraps around him.

Draco’s mouth finds his and he’s kissed sweetly once more before sleep finds them both, right there in front of the fire.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry looks up at the sound of feet on the stairs and smiles as a sleep-rumpled Draco comes into view. He turns off the hob and scoops the last of the eggs onto the two plates he’s been preparing. Turning to Draco, who has come up behind him, he kisses him softly.

“Good morning, love.”

“Morning,” Draco mumbles, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry chuckles. Draco is nearly non-functional before caffeine if he doesn’t get enough sleep, and they’d been up late the night before. Harry reaches over and plucks a mug of coffee from the countertop and presses it into Draco’s hands.

“Caffeinate.” Harry gently steers Draco towards the kitchen table and gathers their breakfast plates.

After two cups of coffee and some food, Draco is much more coherent and awake. He grabs Harry’s plate as well as his own and carries them to the sink.

“I need to pop over to the flat for some work clothes for tomorrow,” Draco says casually as he runs some dishwater in the sink. Harry notices how it’s become “the flat.” He smiles and sets the frying pan on the counter, picking up a towel to dry the dishes Draco’s washing.

“Why don’t you pack a trunk?”

“Why…wait, what?!” Draco sounds completely caught off guard and Harry rushes to elaborate.

“Pack what you need to stay, Draco.” Harry wasn’t planning on having this conversation now, but he’s also not anxious about it. He knows what he wants. “I know we still have everything to work through with the kids, but I want you here. We can worry about the details and logistics after the kids know. But for now, I just…I want you to stay. Every night. For as long as you want to.”

Draco bursts out laughing. Harry is torn between being upset and offended. He wasn’t expecting Draco to _laugh_.

“Are we really having this conversation whilst doing the breakfast dishes?” He hands Harry a plate and shakes his head. Harry joins him in relieved laughter.

“I guess we are.” Harry shrugs with a smirk. His face sobers as he looks at Draco. “Do you not want to stay?”

“No, It’s not that,” Draco says quickly. “I do. Very much. I guess I imagined being a lot more apprehensive for the ‘let’s move in together’ conversation. And I didn’t picture it happening at the kitchen sink.”

Harry snorts. “I’m not exactly known for being patient when I know what I want.”

“Oh?” Draco arches an eyebrow. 

“Shush, you prat.” Harry elbows Draco gently. “So you’re ok with moving in?”

“I feel like if I don’t, I’m just prolonging the inevitable. It’s what we both want. and I’m not planning to be away from you overnight any time soon.” Draco hands Harry the last of the dishes. “It’ll be trickier over the holiday with the kids.”

“Scorpius can have the bedroom of his choosing when they get home. We have plenty. Or we can figure out what kind of arrangement we need once we see how it’s going to go with them.” Harry dries the last pan and puts it away. “I did have another thought, though.”

“What’s that?” Draco lays the rag over the sink and dries his hands before easing Harry into his arms.

“I thought maybe you and I could go into wizarding London today and pick out new bedroom furniture. What I have now isn’t enough room for both of our stuff, and it would be something that’s _ours_.” Harry’s stomach knots as he watches Draco’s expression turn thoughtful and disapproving.

“I thought we didn’t want to be outed until the kids know?” Draco asks hesitantly.

“Oh!” Harry chuckles. “I forgot, you’re not used to this. Polyjuice, Draco. Hermione makes sure I have some for situations that can’t easily be avoided but where being me — or being with me, I guess — isn’t feasible.”

“Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Draco smiles. “So I can hold your hand in the middle of wizarding London and no one would be the wiser?” 

“Exactly,” Harry grins. “Shower then? And shopping? Maybe even lunch out?”

“Sounds perfect.” Draco kisses Harry softly and takes his hand, leading him upstairs to the shower. 

They’re much later getting ready to head out than Harry had anticipated, but the languorous sex in the shower had been well worth it. Draco had pinned Harry’s arms above his head under the shower stream with one hand, worked him open with the other, and slid deep inside him before pounding against his prostate until he came untouched. After their first time on Thursday, they’ve been nearly insatiable and Harry is enjoying being properly fucked thoroughly and often. 

They pour over Hermione’s neatly catalogued hairs and photographs and make an effort to choose something as close to their own body type and looks as possible, as Draco wants to feel like he’s with Harry and not a stranger. Draco chooses a man with his build, but darker blonde hair and light blue eyes instead of grey. Harry chooses a dark-complected man slightly taller than himself, with green eyes but no glasses and of course, no scar. Harry adds each hair to a phial of Polyjuice and hands one to Draco.

“Bottoms up!” he grimaces. “Be prepared. It tastes awful.”

Harry keeps his eyes closed as he downs the potion and feels his body adjust. He cracks open his eyes and pulls off the glasses he no longer needs. Draco still has his eyes screwed tightly shut and the face that is no longer his looks pained.

“You ok?” Harry steps towards the strange-looking man standing before him.

“That’s _weird_ ,” Draco shudders. Harry is pleased to see that even though the face and voice aren’t Draco's, the expressions and the vocal inflection most certainly are. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty disconcerting the first couple times.” Harry looks carefully at Draco before kissing him softly. He feels the same familiar thrill that runs through him every time they kiss. “Oh good. That’s still there.”

Draco laughs. “Yes. That helps.”

“Ready, then?”

“Sure. Where did you want to start?”

“I’m going to assume you know more about where to find good furniture than I do.” Harry has no idea what would be best and Draco clearly has an eye for the finer things in life. “Hermione helped me pick out what I have now.”

“Let’s try Wood and Wand. They usually have nice pieces that aren’t…ostentatious.” Draco smirks. “Unless ostentatious is what you’re going for.”

“Yes, you can clearly see that’s my style,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “I want something we both like that fits our needs. Beyond that, I don’t have a lot of preference.”

Draco nods and offers Harry his arm. “With me?”

Harry wraps his arm around Draco’s and feels that familiar pull behind his navel.

They land at the main Apparition point for Horizont Alley and Harry immediately feels Draco’s arm around his waist to steady him.

“Thank you,” Harry says, once he’s got his feet beneath him. He laces his fingers with Draco’s. “Lead the way.” 

They stroll down to Wand and Wood and step inside. At first glance, Harry can tell that Draco has chosen well. There’s row upon row of well-made furniture with a varying range of woods but all classic designs. 

“Good morning!” A smartly dressed saleswoman strides from the service counter to greet them. “I’m Bernice. Are you gentlemen looking for something in particular today?” 

“We are.” Draco smiles at Harry. “We’re moving in together and we’d like a new bedroom suite.”

Harry can’t hide his grin as warmth spreads through his belly. It’s so nice to be out and about with Draco, proudly in a relationship with him, even if it’s not really their bodies. He can’t wait for all four kids to arrive home from Hogwarts so they can stop hiding away.

“Bedroom suites are this way.” Bernice leads them towards a different section of the shop. “Do you know what pieces you’re looking for?”

“A king-size bed and two nightstands to start with.” Harry pauses to think. “Either one large dresser or two small ones. And two wizarding wardrobes with good extension charms.” Harry looks to Draco. “Is there anything else you think we need, love?”

Draco furrows his brow thoughtfully. “Maybe a mirror? The one in the en-suite is fine, but it might be nice to have one in the bedroom. We have plenty of room in there.”

Harry nods. “Agreed.” He can’t believe how domestic this feels, and one glance at Draco’s dancing eyes tells him he’s feeling the same.

“Do you know what colour or kind of wood you're looking for?” Bernice brings them to a stop in front of a section of bedroom furniture. 

“Furniture is the first thing we’re picking out.” Harry squeezes Draco’s hand. “We can paint and match bedding and decor accordingly.” 

Draco drops Harry’s hand and wraps his arm around his waist, squeezing his hip gently and Harry leans into him. He notices Bernice smiling warmly as she watches them.

“This section is our king-size bedroom suites.” Bernice gestures down the aisle. She waves her wand broadly over the section of furniture. “I’ll be nearby if you need me, just raise a hand and the charm will alert me.”

Bernice heads in the direction of the service counter and Harry turns his head to kiss Draco swiftly.

“It seems so surreal that we’re doing this. Like I’m living some kind of dream.” Harry looks over the large section of furniture. “Do you see anything you like?”

They stroll the furniture section hand in hand, and Harry can’t shake his deep sense of elation that he and Draco are taking steps to build a life _together_. 

By the time they are finished with lunch and ready to head home, they’ve chosen a beautiful, modern ebony four-poster bed with matching dressers, nightstands, and wardrobes. The mirror Draco mentioned has been added on, as well as a dressing bench they both loved. Together with the rest — bedding, paint charm, rugs and decor — Harry can actually close his eyes and picture _their_ bedroom.

Draco helps Harry into his jacket and kisses him on the cheek. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes,” Harry says. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Once back home, they deposit their shrunken and lightened packages outside the bedroom. Draco starts levitating belongings out of the current wardrobe and dresser and into a couple of trunks while Harry retrieves the antidote to the Polyjuice. 

He feels much better back in his own body and quickly passes a phial to Draco. Harry grins when _his_ Draco is again standing before him and rushes to kiss him deeply.

 _Merlin, I love this man_. 

Harry is startled by his own internal musings. No ‘falling.’ No ‘could.’ Just ‘love.’ He loves him, and he can’t find any argument in his mind to the contrary. _Harry Potter loves Draco Malfoy. Huh. Who would’ve ever guessed?_

Harry eases back from the kiss and runs his fingertips down Draco’s cheek. He hopes, fervently, that Draco loves him as well, or will soon. 

“It was so nice to be out with you, but I much prefer when you look like you.”

“Agreed.” Draco smiles softly and cups Harry’s cheek in his hand. “Only a few weeks more. Then we can stop hiding away.”

“I can’t wait. Ready to put our new room together?” 

Draco grins openly. 

“Absolutely.”

Wands working diligently, old furniture is shrunk and put into a guest room, painting charms are set loose on the walls, and the new furniture is resized and put into place. Draco carefully uses sticking charms to hang their new decor, and Harry fits their new sheets and duvet to the bed.

Room complete, several hours later, they stand together in the doorway. _Our room. This is_ our _room._ Harry wraps an arm around Draco’s waist and feels Draco’s arm slip around his own. He looks to Draco’s face. 

“What do you think?” 

“I think it’s perfect.” Draco turns to look back at him and Harry is startled to see the open affection and joy in those silvery eyes. _Maybe he already loves me back_. Harry smiles to himself at the thought. 

“Why don’t you go and get your things, love? We can settle our stuff in together. Do you want me to come with you?”

“You can, but I’m fairly proficient at packing charms. It won’t take long. I have a couple of expandable trunks.”

“How about I put some wine on ice and order in some dinner while you go do that?” Draco’s bright smile answers Harry’s question. “Does anything sound good?” 

“Don’t laugh,” Draco warns, “but pizza and garlic bread from the Muggle place you took me to for lunch last week sounds amazing.” 

“I will never turn down good pizza. And FlooFood even delivers from there.”

“Ok then.” Draco kisses Harry quickly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

* * *

Harry looks up from his seat on the couch when he hears the “pop” of Draco’s apparition. Harry stands and gives Draco a quick kiss.

“Dinner will be another half hour or so. We can go get started?” 

“That sounds good.”

Draco hands Harry one of the shrunken trunks and they head for the stairs. They lay both trunks on the bedroom floor before unshrinking them, and Harry drags his trunks in from the hallway.

“I am really not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow,” Draco says as he organises his sweaters in his new dresser.

“What’s going on tomorrow?”

“Nothing in particular; I’ve just gotten a little spoiled this weekend with the _not having to wear trousers_ and _all the sex_.”

“We can still have plenty of sex. We can always come home for a quickie at lunch if you can’t make it all day.” Harry winks at Draco and laughs at the man’s intrigued expression. “I’m anxious to get back to our new project, but I’ll miss being with you all day.”

“You never did tell me what your lab’s working on now.”

“We’re studying multiple series of imaging of patients who eventually haemorrhaged from their core for unknown reasons. It’s a lot like what happened to Gin. It’s a huge age range, from kids to adults, but once I got past that first series that had me so frustrated on Monday, I started seeing a lot of patterns.” Harry closes the drawer he’s been working on and opens the next. “I’ve been able to untangle almost all of the benign and benevolent magic so the malevolent can be sent to the Curse-Breakers. I might actually get sent over to Curse-Breaking for a few days towards the end of the week, so we can try to break some of the nastier stuff.”

“That’s fascinating! It sounds like you’re making great progress.” Draco sounds proud of him and for whatever reason, that makes Harry’s heart swell. “Will that case make its way to Potions for anything?”

“Probably. Nothing official yet, of course, but I think a core stabilisation potion before neutralising the malevolent magic would probably be the best course of action. The research they gave us at the case briefing showed that stasis magic doesn’t hold the core well.”

The chime of the Floo drifts up the stairs and Harry tucks a last stack of clothes into a drawer before kissing Draco quickly.

“I’ll go grab dinner. Do you still want wine with our pizza?”

“Absolutely,” Draco chuckles. “I could use a glass or two.”

* * *

“That’s the last of it.” Draco closes the doors to his wardrobe and turns to Harry. Harry settles his hands on Draco’s hips and kisses him softly. Draco huffs out a laugh against his lips and Harry eyes him curiously. “We’re living together. Just kind of surreal.”

“It is.” Harry wonders if Draco can feel the absolute love and contentment radiating through him. “I thought maybe I’d never have _something good_ to balance out everything that’s happened. And all this has been such a whirlwind, but everything just feels _right_. I don’t feel like we’ve forced anything; it just works.”

“It does.” Draco reaches for both of Harry’s hands and squeezes them. “I feel so lucky. I never expected to get the chance to be in a serious relationship…to get the chance to fall in love. But here we are.” 

Draco’s eyes are bright, and Harry feels his own eyes well up. Draco drops one of Harry’s hands and cups his cheek tenderly. He is nearly overwhelmed by the emotion in those beautiful grey eyes.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too, Draco. You truly are my _something good_.”

* * *

Living with Draco, Harry decides, is the best kind of wonderful and the best kind of boring, all wrapped in one. He slides the pan of asparagus into the oven next to the chicken and potatoes he’s been baking and turns to put together a salad. It’s been over two weeks since Draco officially moved in, and they’ve fallen into a comfortable routine around work and home. 

Their relationship, however, is _anything_ but routine. The sex is frequent and passionate, and Harry is enjoying the fact that they’re completely comfortable trying new things and finding out what works for them. But beyond that, Harry finds himself falling further in love with Draco every day. It’s not that they don’t disagree — they do, and it can be heated — but they care more about each other than about being right. Harry loves figuring out how to best take care of Draco’s physical and emotional needs and in turn, Draco takes fantastic care of him.

Harry turns with a grin at the pop of Draco Apparating into the living room.

“You’re home.”

“I am.” Draco strides quickly to Harry and gives him a quick kiss. “I’m sorry I’m late. We’re working on that stabilising potion for your study so we can get it to the Curse-Breakers this week and I had a breakthrough.”

“Oh?” Harry’s heart lifts at the news. This project has been particularly important to him, and he’s so pleased that they’re making progress. 

“My variation took longer to brew, but it binds a person’s benevolent core magic — and _only_ their benevolent core magic — until the antidote is administered.” Draco beams proudly. “It should allow the Curse-Breakers to counteract the malevolent magic with no damage to the core.”

“That’s brilliant!” Harry is ready to burst with pride. He’s realised over the course of the last few months that Draco is incredibly smart — like, could-give-Hermione-a-run-for-her-money smart. This will move their research forward and might mean a treatment plan could even be ready for medical use by sometime next year. 

“I was pleased. It just—” Draco pauses as the chiming of the Floo.

“I bet it’s Hermione. She mentioned she wanted to chat this week.”

“Do you want to see if she wants to come through for dinner? Did you make enough?”

“There’s plenty.” Harry studies Draco’s face. Hermione hasn’t come over since Draco officially moved in. She knows, of course, and is supportive, but she’s not actually been to the house. “Would you be ok with her joining us?”

“Of course. She’s your best friend. Having her over for dinner is probably overdue.” Harry sees no hesitation or unease in Draco’s face. Draco squeezes Harry’s hip. “I’m going to go change out of my work clothes.”

“I’ll see what she says.” 

Harry hurries to the Floo and opens the connection to find Hermione’s smiling face.

“Hi, Hermione.” He smiles at the sight of his best friend. He loves being with Draco, but he has missed the time he and Hermione usually spent together.

“Hello, Harry,” she grins back, apparently feeling the same. “How are things going?”

“Great. Draco just got home from work.” Harry gestures behind him to where Draco has disappeared up the stairs. ”We were wondering if you wanted to come through for dinner. I just put chicken and potatoes in the oven.” 

“That would be lovely. I’ve missed you.”

Hermione’s expression is a mix of surprise, relief, and a bit of trepidation. She’s seen Draco multiple times since he and Harry became friendly and started dating, but not since Draco moved in. Harry feels like she’s not sure of her place in the house where she’s always been welcome before, now that it’s “theirs” and not “his.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Harry murmurs. Hermione has been one of the few consistent people in his life for over a decade. He _has_ missed her and doesn’t want her to feel replaced. Harry hears Draco descending the stairs behind him. He glances over his shoulder as Draco approaches.

“Hello, Hermione.” Draco’s voice holds none of the trepidation Hermione’s face had expressed, and Harry’s sure he’s trying to make this an easier transition. “Are you going to join us this evening?”

Hermione smiles more easily, and Harry is silently thankful for Draco’s intuition and thoughtfulness. 

“I am.” 

“Excellent.” Draco places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “I’ll go find us some wine to go with dinner.”

“Thank you, love.” Harry shoots Draco a grateful look and a smile before turning back to Hermione. “Come on through when you’re ready?”

“Give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.” Hermione shifts to back out of the fire. “I’ll see you soon!”

The connection closes and Harry rises from the hearth. Draco emerges from the pantry with a bottle of wine as Harry moves to check on dinner. A distinct scratching at the window catches his attention just as he slips on his oven mitts.

“Would you let the owl in?”

“Of course.” Draco moves to the window. “It seems that James has written.” 

Harry stands from the oven and slides the door shut again just in time to see a weary Woody swooping to the perch. Draco hands him James’ letter and he opens it.

*

_Dad,_

_Thank you for your letter, it helped me feel less nervous about talking to Matthew. We had another long talk about me being uncomfortable when other people flirt with me and not being able to say I’m in a relationship. Matthew had actually noticed and it makes him uncomfortable, too. He says he’s ready to be public with our relationship, even if that means it ends up in the Prophet. We’re both nervous but we’re going to Hogsmeade this weekend as a couple. I’ll let you know how it goes._

_Are you doing ok? Albus still worries that you are lonely, even though you keep telling him you’re not. I know you’ve been around Mr Malfoy and Aunt Hermione, at least, from your letters. Lily and I think maybe you should get back on the horse and start dating again. Then maybe Albus would worry less._

_I’m counting down to the Christmas holiday. O.W.L. year is no joke! I am studying plenty and not getting too distracted._

_Love,_

_James_

*

Harry chuckles and shakes his head.

“My children are meddling.” 

He hands the letter to Draco and sees the moment Draco reads the line suggesting that Harry ought to be dating again. 

“Do you think they mean me specifically? Or just in general?”

“I never know with those three. At least it means they should be okay with everything when we tell them. I do think we may need to have a talk with James over the break, though. It sounds like he and Matthew are getting more serious.”

Draco nods, but before he can answer, the Floo roars to life and Hermione steps out. Harry gives Draco a look that says they’ll talk about it later and wraps Hermione in his arms.

* * *

Harry stretches out next to Draco in their bed. Dinner with Hermione had been wonderful and they’d all enjoyed good conversation. Harry is thankful that it seems his best friend and his partner are going to be able to navigate a successful friendship. He’s not willing to lose either of them.

“So, about James’ letter…” Draco’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Yeah, I think we might need to review some of our dealing with the _press being invasive_ conversation. I’m sure James and Matthew’s relationship will be all over the news. That’s not going to be easy at fifteen.”

“Well, it shouldn’t last long, at least.” Draco rolls his eyes. “After this weekend, there’s only two weeks before the kids come home. And I’m sure you and I will make a _much_ bigger headline than James and Matthew.”

Harry sighs. “Well, there’s a silver lining in the media shitstorm that will follow our coming out.”

Draco huffs a laugh. “I suppose. We do need to decide how we’re going to go about that.”

“We do.” Harry has always been open with his children, and he plans to continue that with this subject matter. But he’s never had to tell his kids he’s romantically involved with someone, and he’s not sure the best way to do it. The fact that Draco also has a child complicates matters further.

“I think we should bring all four kids back here,” Draco says slowly. “Scorpius is already familiar with you and the house, and this is where we’re planning to spend the break.”

“Do you think Scorpius will be ok with that?” Harry isn’t sure how his kids would feel spending their holiday away from home.

“I’ll make sure I spend some time just with him after we tell them. If he’s not ok with it, we can make a different plan.” Draco pauses thoughtfully. “I really do think he’ll be ok with it, though. He’s a pretty laid-back kid.”

“I sure hope so. I sort of figured we can just tell them that we are in a relationship and let them ask any questions they have.” Harry really hopes Draco is prepared for the barrage of questions he is sure his children will fire at them — being able to ask just about anything and get honest answers. “If the living together doesn’t come up during that, we can bring it up once they’re done.”

“What about the Chosen One’s adoring public?” 

The absolute sarcasm dripping from Draco’s voice makes Harry laugh darkly.

“I couldn’t really care less. We’ll just live our life, and they’ll figure it out.” Harry has no desire to deal with the press. It doesn’t matter if he gives interviews or ignores them, they still manage to speculate and make things up. It frustrates him to no end, but he’s never managed to find a way to quell the invasion of his privacy. “If it gets too rough on the kids, we can release a statement.”

“Should we give my solicitor a heads up?” Draco reaches over and takes Harry’s hand, tracing gentle patterns up and down his fingers, but even Draco’s touch isn’t enough to quell his increasing irritation over dealing with the press. “He can at least have something prepared to send out to any publications that cross the line, especially regarding the kids.”

“It’s probably not a bad idea.”

Harry struggles to keep himself calm and finally loses the battle against the anger boiling under the surface. 

“Damn it, Draco! I hate this!”

Draco jumps at Harry’s shout, looking alarmed. “Hate…what exactly?”

“I love you. I’m happy with you. We have a great relationship and a fabulous sex life and we’re making plans for a life together.” Harry screws his eyes shut and tries to reign in his frustration. “I hate that we’ve had to keep our relationship a secret this long, and I hate that we have to worry about ramifications from the press and the public instead of just enjoying being happy together. I hate that being with me is going to subject you to Merlin knows what kind of bullshit.”

He feels the bed shift and he’s being pulled in close to Draco’s chest. Draco kisses the top of his head.

“Harry.” Draco’s voice is thick with emotion. “I knew, before we started dating, what being with you would entail. We were in the papers for just being out in public as friends. I know they’ll drag up our pasts. I know they’ll be cruel. But I knew all this before I asked you on our first date. You were worth it then, and you are worth it now. I love you. We’ll get through it together.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Fuck, I’m nervous.” Harry runs a hand through his hair and looks to Draco, who is sitting on their couch sipping a cup of tea.

“I am, as well, but your pacing isn’t going to do anything to help.” Draco sets his cup down and moves in front of Harry. Steadying hands grasp his hips and Draco’s soft lips cover his. After several minutes of languid snogging, Harry is less nervous but more aroused.

“Is that better?” Draco inquires, expression bemused.

“Well, I’m not as nervous, but now I’ve got a different problem.”

Draco’s smirk is absolutely lascivious.

“I’ll take care of that tonight after the kids go to bed. Don’t let me forget to put a silencing charm on our bedroom.”

“The kids will know we’re having sex, Draco.”

“That doesn’t mean they need to hear it.” Draco squeezes Harry's hips gently. “We need to go or we’ll be late.”

Harry nods. “You go on, and I’ll be along in a few minutes.” He kisses Draco quickly. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Draco gathers his wand and his mobile and is off with a pop.

Several minutes later, Harry makes his way through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. He immediately sees Draco’s white-blonde hair across the platform where he’s talking to Blaise, who, like Hermione, knows about their relationship and is supportive.

Harry approaches the two men and is careful to leave distance between himself and Draco. He’d like nothing better than to hold Draco’s hand right now and if he gets too close, he’s afraid he might do it, appropriate or not.

“Potter.” Blaise greets him with a smile.

“Zabini.” Harry smiles in return before looking at Draco. While his body is perfectly poised and relaxed, Harry knows that look in his eyes. His nerves are as on edge as Harry’s own.

“I hear you’re to have an eventful break.” Blaise casts a knowing look between Harry and Draco.

“Hopefully not overly so.” Harry is hoping the news goes over well with the kids. Press be damned; nothing ever goes over well with them. “How is your daughter getting by at Hogwarts?”

“She seems to be enjoying it. She was a bit homesick at first, but I think most kids are.” Blaise shrugs.

Harry bites his tongue before he can say he never was. “Is she in Slytherin?”

“No, she’s a Ravenclaw, like her mum.” Blaise shakes his head. “She’s very bright, but she doesn’t have a cunning bone in her body.”

All three men turn at the sound of a train whistle which seems to signal Harry’s heart to begin racing even faster than before. He’s quite ready to see his children. Even with Draco as a distraction, he has missed them terribly.

Harry notices that Blaise has eased himself away as the train is pulling in and he’s grateful for that bit of privacy. This will be nerve-wracking enough without an additional audience.

The train eases to a stop and the doors slide open. Harry looks anxiously for his children, scanning from one end to the other. As he’s peering down to the end of the train, a tiny body collides with his and arms squeeze around his middle.

“Lily!” he exclaims, scooping her up. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” 

“Dad!” Lily whines. “I’m almost _twelve_!”

He kisses her on the cheek before setting her down. “Have you got all your things?”

“My trunk is shrunk and lightened and inside James’ trunk. He’ll be along in a minute.” Lily’s eyes sparkle with a look that Harry knows means she has a secret. “I think he and Matthew are saying goodbye in the compartment so it doesn’t get photographed.”

“Have you seen Al?”

“No. He and Scorpius sat with the Slytherins.”

Harry spots James over the top of Lily’s head, hand in hand with Matthew, dragging his trunk behind him. He raises a hand to catch James’ eye and is pleased to see his son grin when he’s spotted.

“Hi, Dad!” James drops Matthew’s hand to hug Harry hard.

“I’m so proud of you, son,” Harry says softly in his son’s ear. He releases James and looks to Matthew.

“Hello, Matthew.” Harry smiles at the young man who looks rather nervous. “I hope we’ll see you over the holiday?”

Matthew’s eyes go a bit wide, and Harry sees James squeeze his hand gently.

“That would be great, Mr Potter.”

“I’m sure James will be in touch to make plans. You’re always welcome.”

There’s a hand on Harry’s back and he turns to see Albus, with Scorpius just behind already wrapped in Draco’s arms. Harry draws his younger son into a tight hug.

“I love you, Al. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Dad.” Al pulls back and studies his father carefully. “You look happy.”

“I _am_ happy, Al.” Harry shakes his head. “You really haven’t believed a word I’ve written about being just fine, have you?”

Al hangs his head and Harry laughs. Harry draws his wand and levitates James’ trunk over next to Al’s and Scorpius’ and makes eye contact with Draco. Draco nods once, and Harry draws a steadying breath as he looks at his kids.

“Ok, are we ready to head out? The Malfoys are coming with us.”

Al’s head perks up.

“Really? Scorp’s coming over?”

“He is.” Harry shrinks all three trunks and casts a featherweight charm over them before Draco scoops them up and pockets them.

“Al, why don’t you come with us? Your dad can Side-Along James and Lily and I can take you and Scorp.” Draco smiles.

They all pop into the living room of Potter Cottage and Harry is suddenly exponentially more nervous. Deep breath and forced smile, he faces the kids. James is looking at him knowingly and Harry wonders if he’s already figured out what’s coming.

“All right, come sit for a minute and then we’ll figure out what kind of takeaway we want for dinner.”

Lily grins at the mention of takeaway.

“Pizza!” she shouts. “Please, Dad! From the place with the garlic bread!”

Harry catches Draco’s smirk. Lily clearly takes after her father in her love of carbs.

The kids all pile onto the couch and four pairs of eyes are staring at Harry and Draco expectantly. _Here goes nothing_.

“Ok, let me tell you what’s going on and then you can ask any questions. I’ll be as honest as I can with you, as always.” Harry glances over at Draco. “I know the four of you know that Draco and I got to know each other better after you all headed off to Hogwarts. What you don’t know is that we’ve found that we enjoy each others’ company romantically, as well, and that we’re in a relationship.” Harry watches the children's eyes go wide as he reaches over and squeezes Draco’s hand. He can’t help but chuckle a little at Lily, who is bouncing excitedly. Clearly she is not upset by this development.

“We’re hoping that the four of you will be ok with the Malfoys staying here over break, as Draco has already been living here with me for about a month.” Harry pauses and takes in the faces of the four children. James seems…pleased maybe? Lily looks excited. Al and Scorpius are looking at each other and smiling. _Ok. Deep breath. Everyone seems to be ok._

“What questions do you have?” Draco speaks up, stepping closer to Harry and laying a hand on the small of his back.

“How serious is this?” James sounds intrigued.

“Pretty serious, James.” Harry smiles softly at his son. “I love Draco, and he loves me. We’re living together. Those aren’t things either of us take lightly.”

“Are you getting married?” Lily blurts, still looking absolutely giddy. 

“Not right now.” Draco chuckles. “Probably in the future, but we haven’t got a concrete timeline for that kind of thing.”

Harry’s heart soars at the easy way Draco speaks about their future and he’s sure there’s a sappy grin on his face. Albus meets Harry’s eye and there’s a rare full-faced Albus smile.

“You really _are_ happy, aren’t you, Dad?”

“I am, Al. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a romantic partner. It’s nice to have someone to share my life with again.”

“Am I living here, now, too?” Scorpius sounds a bit unsure.

“We still have the flat. There are no plans to sell it. But Harry and I would like us all to stay here as a family if the four of you are amenable.” Draco rubs small circles on Harry’s back and he can feel the nerves radiating off the blond. 

“So I’ll have a bedroom? And a place for my stuff?”

“Of course, Scorpius.” Harry isn't’ sure of the best way to reassure Draco’s son that he’s just as loved and welcome as his dad. “You can have your choice of bedroom, and you can decorate and arrange it as you like. Within reason, of course.”

Scorpius grins, looking relieved, and Harry feels his own nerves settle just a little bit.

“How are the four of you feeling about this?”

“Scorp and I wondered if it might happen,” Al confesses. “You seemed like you might go well together. I’m ok with it.”

“I am, too,” Scorpius agrees, “as long as I have a place here. It’ll be good to spend the break with Al.”

“I think it’s great.” Harry isn’t at all surprised at Lily’s response. 

James eyes both men and Harry can’t quite interpret the look on his face. “I’m fine with it. It’s just…different.”

“We haven’t been out publicly as a couple yet because we wanted to tell you first. We do plan to be out publicly with the four of you over the break and by ourselves from here on out, so there will probably be press.” Draco’s voice takes on a firmer tone. “Harry and I do not want you kids to take any of the brunt of whatever the press cooks up. I want you to tell us immediately if you’re being harassed by reporters or photographers, okay?”

Four heads nod and James rolls his eyes. “The press is ridiculous.”

“We have a solicitor ready to deal with it, James,” Harry tries to reassure his son. “I know you’ve gotten some press from you and Matthew, but this will probably be a bit different.”

Harry pauses and looks over all four kids.

“Ok, let’s get Scorpius settled into a room, get dinner ordered, and get everyone unpacked. If you have more questions, you can ask either of us or both of us together.”

All four kids make for the stairs, snagging their shrunken trunks on the way.

* * *

Lily wins the dinner battle. Pizza is ordered and the kids quickly settle into their rooms, Scorpius choosing the room next to Al’s. Harry pauses at the door to James’ room, seeing him sitting on his bed, expression pensive. 

“James? Everything ok?”

“Yeah.” James looks up at his dad and a smile quirks at the corners of his mouth. “It’s just different to see you with a man.”

“I’ve never hidden my sexuality from you, James.”

“I know. It’s just kind of nice to see my dad in the same kind of relationship as me.” James pauses and his eyes dart to his bedside table. Harry’s eyes follow and he spots James’ mobile there. “Can I call Matthew and tell him?”

“Of course. And I meant what I said. Matthew is welcome here over the break. I know you’ll want to see him.”

“Thanks, Dad.” James looks relieved with the clarification.

“I love you, James. Come down for dinner when you’re off the phone, ok?”

“I love you, too, Dad. I will.”

Harry turns from James’ room and heads down the stairs. As he nears the bottom, he hears Al’s voice and pauses.

“When I asked you to check in on my dad, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, you know!” Al’s voice has a teasing tone. _He must be talking to Draco_.

“I know, Al.” Draco’s voice answers. “It’s not what I had in mind either. But I love your dad.” Another pause. “Are you ok with this?”

“Yeah.” Al’s voice sounds sincere. “I’ve never seen Dad this happy. I…I think you’re good for him. I think maybe you’re good for each other.”

“I think you’re right, Al.” There’s a pause and a noise. “Come on, let’s take these drinks into the living room. Lily and Scorpius are setting out the pizza and we can all eat in there.”

Harry waits, hidden on the stairs, heart full. Maybe, just maybe, his _something good_ is going to work out, kids and all. 

* * *

“James!” Harry calls up the stairs. “Let’s go!”

James finally appears at the top of the stairs. He’s clearly put some effort into his appearance and Harry smiles. All six of them are headed into wizarding London for a nice Sunday brunch and some Christmas shopping. Not only is it the first outing with Harry and Draco publicly involved as a couple, but Matthew is also meeting them in London to spend the day with James.

“Is the effort for the press or for Matthew?” Harry teases as James descends.

“For Matthew.” James sticks his tongue out at his dad. “The press can fuck right off.”

“That they can, son.” Harry agrees, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s not keep your young man waiting. We told him 11 o’clock.”

They find everyone else ready to go in the living room.

“Ok, kids. We’re meeting Matthew in front of The Spotted Owl, then brunch before shopping. Ignore the stares, please. Don’t make rude gestures at the press once they find us. Stay out in front of Draco and me so we can keep an eye out.”

All four kids nod dutifully. Harry’s kids are used to the press by this point and know the drill. 

Harry and Draco Side-Along the children to the Apparition point in wizarding London, and Harry steels himself for the stares as he laces his fingers with Draco’s and squeezes gently. 

“All right.” Draco nods. “Off we go.”

They manage the ten minutes it takes to get to the restaurant press-free, but Harry knows word will spread and they won’t be so lucky afterwards. He is, in the meantime, enjoying holding Draco’s hand walking down the street.

Matthew is waiting for them just outside The Spotted Owl and Harry sees his face light up when he spots James. Harry’s heart warms seeing his son and his boyfriend so happy. He knows it could end in heartbreak, as so many teenage romances do, but having grown up in such a homophobic household, Harry is thankful he’s raised his son to know that his sexuality isn’t shameful. 

“Hello, Matthew.” Harry smiles at him as James kisses him in greeting. “I don’t think you’ve met my partner before. This is Draco Malfoy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Malfoy.” Matthew extends a hand, which Draco shakes.

“You, as well,” Draco says warmly. “I’m glad you could join us today.”

Harry takes a mental inventory of the people gathering around them. He doesn’t want a crowd to gather before they get a chance to sit down. He’d like to at least enjoy brunch before people decide to become obtrusive.

“Let’s move on in before we cause a ruckus.” Draco and Harry herd all five children into the restaurant.

“Reservation for Potter and Malfoy, for seven,” Draco tells the hostess. Harry nearly chokes on his laughter as the hostess’s eyes move from Draco’s face, to Harry’s face, to their joined hands, to the five children, eyes growing wider by the second.

“Of course,” she stutters. “Right this way.”

“Well,” Harry mutters in Draco’s ear, “we know who’s calling to alert the press.”

Draco snickers as they follow the hostess to their table. Every eye in the restaurant swivels to look as they walk by, and Harry internally rolls his eyes. People always openly gawk when he goes out with the children, but this is going to be worse than usual. He and Draco had decided beforehand that they weren’t going to behave any differently to appease the masses or the press. They’re in a happy, loving relationship and anyone who doesn’t like it doesn’t have to look.

The kids all clamour for a seat and Draco helps Harry out of his coat before pulling out his chair for him. Harry kisses his cheek in thanks before sitting, shaking his head at the gasps he’s hearing around the spacious dining room. Draco slides into the seat next to him.

“I know it’s always bad when you’re out, but this is going to be ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. They usually stare when I’m out alone or with the kids. The press knows to keep their distance, but they’ll still be following us around since our relationship is _breaking news_ ,” Harry scoffs. “They’ll get used to it eventually and it won’t be such a spectacle.”

* * *

Once the dishes are cleared from their meal, Harry looks steadily at all five kids.

“Okay, we’re ready to do some shopping. Do all of you have your Gringotts cards? And know how much pocket money is on them?”

All four of Draco and Harry’s kids nod.

“Do any of you need us to go with you for anything specific?” Draco turns to Scorpius. “Scorp, did you decide if you want new furniture for your room or prefer to bring over what’s at the flat?”

“I think something new.” 

“Okay, Harry and I will take you to Wood and Wand first, then.” Draco nods. “Anyone else?”

A chorus of ‘nos’ rises from around the table.

“Rules,” Harry says firmly. “ _None_ of you go anywhere by yourself. No one goes in any pair or group unless at least one of you has a mobile. Check in with us when you go into and out of a store. Just a quick text so we know where to find you in an emergency. Ignore the press if they show up. If they get closer than two meters, call Draco or me immediately.”

“Everyone clear?” Draco asks. The kids all nod. The Potter kids are used to this, and Harry supposes Matthew probably is after he and James went public. A picture of the pair sharing a chaste kiss had appeared in the Prophet the morning after their Hogsmeade date.

Heading to the street, Scorpius and Albus come with Harry and Draco while James and Matthew take Lily. Making their way into Wand and Wood, Harry spots Bernice behind the service counter again.

“Hello again, Bernice!” Harry greets her.

Confusion crosses her face. Harry smiles.

“You helped my partner and me find new bedroom furniture several weeks ago.” Harry nods towards Draco. “We had altered our appearance for privacy reasons.”

“Oh!” Bernice appears flustered. “I’m sorry; I had no idea that was you, Mr Potter. Or you, Mr Malfoy.”

“That’s quite all right,” Draco assures her. “What we found was an excellent fit for our space. We find ourselves needing furniture for this one’s bedroom today.”

Draco places a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.

“Of course,” Bernice smiles.

“Go on, Scorp,” Draco encourages. “Take Al and go see what you like. Come get Harry and me when you’ve settled on a couple of options.”

The boys obediently follow Bernice, and Harry turns inquiringly to Draco.

“Did you not want to go look with them?”

“We’ll join them shortly. I really just wanted thirty seconds alone with you.” Draco pulls Harry close. “Today has been rather intense, and while I’m glad our ‘first outing’ will be behind us, it’s just exhausting. I don’t know how you’ve put up with this for so long.”

“You get used to it.” Harry shrugs but doesn’t leave Draco’s embrace. He glances out the window. “Well, fuck. It’s about to get worse. There they are.”

Harry nods towards the entrance where two Daily Prophet reporters loom outside the door.

Draco sighs.

“Let’s go join the boys and once we’re done picking out furniture, we can send them elsewhere and let the press do their leering at us. At least that might keep them away from the kids.”

Once Scorpius’ furniture has been chosen, shrunken, and packed, they do exactly that. Harry thanks Bernice again and steels himself, taking Draco’s hand and leading him out the door. 

“Mr Potter!”

“Harry!”

“Mr Malfoy!”

“Are you in a relationship?”

“Is it serious?”

Harry steadfastly ignores the shouted questions and continues walking. Draco squeezes his hand.

“Want to send them into a total tizzy?” Draco’s voice sounds mischievous.

Harry dares a glance at Draco’s face, only to discover an evil smirk.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s go in here.” Draco tugs Harry’s hand and he follows Draco into a shop. He glances around and realises Draco has pulled him into The Dragon’s Eye, one of London’s premiere wizarding jewellers; Harry can’t help but laugh.

“You’re terrible.” Harry pauses. He hadn’t planned on stopping here today, but he also wouldn’t mind knowing what Draco likes. He does intend to marry him at some point, after all. “I wouldn’t mind looking at some rings with you, though. Driving the press a bit mad will be a bonus.”

Draco’s eyes dance with a bit of mischief and a lot of love.

“I think seeing what we like is a fine idea.”

A very refined-looking salesman comes walking towards them, and Harry watches him work to school his shocked expression as he realises Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are standing in front of him, hand in hand.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m Erwin. Is there something I can help you with today?”

“Yes.” Draco’s refined accent has taken on an even crisper air than normal. “We’d like to look at engagement rings. Perhaps some wedding bands, also.”

“Right this way.” Erwin moves behind the counter and shows them to a display of rings with a variety of gemstones and styles. Harry steadfastly ignores the photographers now pressed up against the glass window at the front of the store. This will certainly make the papers.

“What catches your eye, love?” Draco places a hand on the small of Harry’s back and guides him closer to the case.

Harry studies the case of rings, trying to imagine what he’d like Draco to slide onto his finger. There are some truly ostentatious designs, and some that are more plain than he would prefer. But on the back row, Harry spots something he likes.

“I like that one.” He points and Erwin immediately pulls the ring from the case. It’s white gold with a thick textured band and a diagonal swirl of five diamonds across the top. “Maybe not all diamonds, though.”

“Any gemstones can be used,” Erwin assures them.

Draco studies Harry’s face for just a moment with an expression Harry can’t quite interpret, then looks to Erwin as he reaches for the ring.

“May I see it?” 

“Of course.”

Draco lifts the ring and studies it, before handing it to Harry. Harry looks it over and the more he looks at it, the more he likes it.

“What would you change?” Draco prods gently.

“Maybe our birthstones instead of all diamonds?” Harry ponders.

“Well, my family doesn’t do birthstones; we usually have a stone chosen for us that corresponds with the stars we are named after,” Draco explains.

“What stone is yours, then?”

“The brightest star in my constellation is Etamin. The heart of the dragon.” Draco places a hand against his chest. “It’s a red star, so my stone is a ruby.”

“So the same as my birthstone?”

“Yes. So maybe we could replace two of the diamonds with rubies?”

“I think I’d like that.” Harry’s heart flutters picturing a ring like that on his finger. He knows that everyone will be aware of their relationship after today, but some part of him is anxious for the world to know that this is serious, and not the fling the papers will surely paint it as.

Draco turns to Erwin. “Can this be done in other metals?”

“Of course.” Erwin is eager to reassure Draco. “Yellow gold or platinum are both available.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Is there one that you’d like, love?” Harry steers Draco’s attention back to the large selection of men’s engagement rings. He knows only one of them will propose and he’s sure it will probably be Draco, but he wants both of them to wear that sign of their commitment. As much as he likes the idea of wearing a ring from Draco, he’s equally anxious for Draco to wear a ring from him, as well.

“Something like that, I think.” Draco points to a ring, and Erwin immediately pulls it from the display.

“This is white gold. It can also be done in platinum or yellow gold.”

The ring has a sleek, modern design and a curved grooving that swirls from either side of a single ruby stone. Harry smiles. It looks like something Draco would wear and he can easily picture it on Draco’s finger.

“That’s perfect.”

Draco smiles and kisses Harry’s forehead. Harry sighs at the flashes of light from the window. _Fucking press._

“Erwin, could you make note of these two rings for us so we have the information when we’re ready for it?”

“Of course, Mr Malfoy.” Erwin hurries off, rings in hand, to do as Draco asked. Harry’s mind is swirling with thoughts of engagement and a wedding and a future with Draco. All of it sounds perfect to him.

“Harry?” Draco softly interrupts Harry’s thoughts.

“Yes, love?”

“At the risk of being overly forward in public, I know we’ve discussed it and we intend to get married in a year or so, but how soon do you want to be engaged?” Draco wraps one arm around Harry’s waist and takes his left hand gently in the other, tracing a path with his thumb over Harry’s finger where his engagement ring would sit. “Because I can’t help imagining sliding that ring onto your finger, and it’s wonderful.”

“It sounds wonderful to me, too. I hadn’t necessarily thought about how soon we would be engaged.” Harry leans into Draco’s side. “I wouldn’t say no if you asked me right now, and I won’t say no if you ask me a year from now.”

Harry feels Draco’s lips touch his temple.

“That’s good to know.”

* * *

Harry leans his head to rest on the back of the couch. Several hours of shopping with Draco and their children accompanied by the press was exhausting. Draco’s gone upstairs to help Scorpius and Al unshrink and arrange Scorpius’ new furniture, and James has taken Matthew to his room for some “quality time.” Judging by the music and the laughter drifting through the door, Harry is sure they’re enjoying themselves.

Suddenly there’s a weight in his lap, and he lifts his head to find Lily curling up there. She’s always been his snugglebug, and he’s missed holding her. She’s the only one of his children that still sits on his lap. He wraps his arms around her and holds her for a moment before he breaks the silence.

“Everything ok, Lils?”

“I have questions.”

Oh Merlin. When Lily _has questions_ , it inevitably means he’s about to navigate some treacherous parenting territory. Lily, having only known Harry’s open and honest parenting style, has no shame in asking him the things she wants to know or telling him exactly what she’s thinking.

“About what, exactly?”

“You and Draco.”

_Hoo boy._

“Ask away, Lil. I’ll be as honest as I can.”

“Do you love him?”

At least it’s an easy one to start with. 

“Yes, Lil. I love him very much.”

“Like you loved mum?”

 _Oof_. Truth be told, while he loved Ginny romantically and he was happy enough with her, what he has with Draco is…more intense. And it feels right in a way he and Ginny didn’t for much longer. Draco fills a part of him he didn’t know was empty.

“Sort of. I love Draco romantically, like I loved your mum. But it’s also different with him — good different. We are at a different point in life than your mum and I were, so it’s not going to be the same.”

“Are you having sex?”

Harry sputters at his daughter’s frank question. _Well, I did tell her to ask away._ He’s never made sex a taboo topic in their home, and he certainly doesn’t want to start now.

“Draco and I are adults in a loving and committed relationship. We express that love and commitment in a variety of ways, including sex.” _Why would Lily be concerned about this?_ “But Lil…why are you asking me that?”

“Mina said sometimes she hears her parents making noise in their bedroom and she thinks they’re having sex.” Lily’s nose scrunches up. “I don’t want to hear you and Draco, Dad. I know it’s normal and all that, but I don’t want to think about you and Draco doing…that.”

 _Ahhh_. That makes more sense for an eleven-year-old.

“Is Mina a Muggle-born?”

“Yep!”

“Then be glad your dad is a wizard and silencing charms are a thing. You won’t have to hear anything that may or may not be happening.”

“Phew. Ok.” Lily pauses, fidgeting. Harry looks down at her face, mouth twisted in a contemplative expression, and can tell she has more she wants to ask.

“Out with it, Lil.”

“Are you and Draco going to get married soon?”

She doesn’t seem put off by the notion, thankfully. Harry truly hopes his children will all be ok with Draco and Harry moving at the pace the two of them choose. That aside, Harry knows four kids between them has been, and will continue to be, a consideration in their relationship.

“We haven’t set a date or anything, Lil. We’ll be engaged before we do that.”

“When will _that_ be?”she asks, tone eager and hopeful. Harry can’t help but chuckle.

“I don’t know. We did look at engagement rings today, though.”

“You _did_?!” Lily is practically squealing with excitement at this news. Harry laughs outright. He’s been concerned that Lily, who was somewhat accustomed to receiving all of her father’s attention the last two years, would feel pushed aside by Draco. This is, apparently, a non-issue.

“We did. I’m sure it will be in the Prophet tomorrow.”

“Fucking press,” Lily mutters.

“Lil!” Harry shakes his head and then sighs. Lily’s face holds no shame.

“Well, I think you should do it soon. So does James.”

“Oh?”

Lilly nods vigorously.

“We talked about it today while we were shopping. James says you’ve been alone for too long and he likes that you have a…what do you call Draco again?”

“My partner. Draco is my partner.”

“He likes that you have a partner. I do, too. And we think it would be good if you got married.”

Of all the scenarios Draco and Harry have discussed, their children pushing them to move faster and get married has not been among them. Anger? Yes. Disapproval? Absolutely. Straight up rebellion? Also considered. But not this.

“That timeline will be between Draco and me, Lil. But I’m glad that you and James are supportive of our relationship.”

Lily looks up at her dad, big green eyes as sincere as an eleven-year-old’s can be.

“We are, Daddy. We want you to finally be happy. You’ve smiled more since we got home than you did the whole month before we left. I like that.”

Lily’s words hit Harry like a punch to the gut. Had he really been that unhappy before? He made a mental note to ask Hermione later. He hadn’t meant to worry the kids, but there's no denying he’s much happier with Draco than he's been in a long time.

“Thank you, Lil. Having you on my side means a lot.” He says as he hugs her tightly. 

Draco emerges from their en suite as Harry closes the bedroom door, having just finished telling all four kids good night. They meet in the middle and Harry immediately relaxes against Draco’s chest, laying his head on the taller man’s shoulder. They haven’t had a moment alone all day. He’s missed the comfort and warmth of being in Draco’s arms.

“Our children are exhausting. I don’t remember the last time I was this exhausted.”

“Our children are meddling,” Draco counters. Harry lifts his head to quirk an eye at Draco.

“Meddling? How so?”

“Well, whilst I was helping the two boys put together Scorp’s new room, Scorp informed me that he and Al both think our relationship is great and that they like that we’re together.”

Harry snickers. Draco looks a bit confused but continues. 

“Then I got peppered with questions about when we might get engaged or married, and whether or not they would be permitted to come on our honeymoon.” 

Harry shakes with laughter against Draco’s shoulder.

“Why is this funny?!”

“Because I had Lily on my lap having a relatively identical conversation while you were having that one. She, James, and Matthew apparently discussed it while we were all out today.”

Harry pulls back and watches Draco’s face.

“Lily also asked, point-blank, if we are having sex.”

Draco sputters much like Harry had during the original question.

“Why on earth would she ask that?”

“Apparently Mina, who is Muggle-born, sometimes hears her parents. Lil does _not_ want to hear us. I told her we would use silencing charms.”

Harry pauses as Lily’s other observation comes to the forefront of his memory. It must be obvious on his face because Draco looks concerned.

“Is there something else, love?”

“Kind of. Lily also said something that sort of hit me hard. She said I’ve smiled more since they’ve been home than I did the entire month before they left. She said she and James are glad to finally see me happy.”

“You _are_ happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Incredibly happy. I just didn’t realise I was unhappy before. I didn’t mean to make my kids worry.”

“Well, you’re happy now, and I plan to make sure you stay that way. You can’t go back and fix the past, but we can make sure things are better moving forward.”


	11. Chapter 11

By the time New Year’s Eve rolls around, Harry is beginning to wonder how he ever survived raising three kids on his own. He is completely exhausted from constantly being on the go. The Prophet had, of course, put a picture of Draco and Harry in The Dragon’s Eye on the front page the day after their first trip out, and the media drama has been non-stop ever since. Draco has strengthened the wards on the house to keep out owls from anyone they don’t know, because the quantity of Howlers has been completely ridiculous.

But everything else about these three weeks with all four kids home has been wonderful. There have been squabbles, but overall, the blending of their two families had gone remarkably well. Christmas was exactly as Harry prefers it: loud and full of love and laughter. The children had all gone together and gotten their dads matching plush bathrobes. Scorpius and Lily had both been over the moon to get the mobiles Harry and Draco had picked out, Al and James were thrilled with their new brooms, and Harry was just happy to have them all together. 

Now they’re only two days from putting the children on the Hogwarts Express, and Harry can acutely feel their time as a family running short. At least they’re spending New Year’s Eve all together, relaxing at Potter Cottage. Matthew has come over to see James, and all five kids are currently on their brooms, flying around under the lights of the Quidditch pitch. Harry and Draco are snuggled together under a blanket on the patio chaise longue, watching the wild game of 5-person “Catch the Snitch” in the distance.

Draco lazily lifts his wand and the wireless begins to play the same song they’d danced to in the living room, the first night they’d made love.

“Care to dance?”

“I’ll take any excuse to be in your arms.

Draco stands, offering Harry his hand. Harry looks up into sparkling grey eyes and grins, placing his hand into Draco’s outstretched one. Tugging Harry to his feet, Draco gathers him close and they sway gently together. Harry can’t imagine feeling happier and more content than he does in Draco’s arms.

“I never could have imagined having this,” Draco murmurs in his ear.

“What’s ‘this’?”

“What we have together. A happy relationship. Fabulous sex. Being in love.” Draco’s hand rubs gentle circles on Harry’s back.

“I’m so glad we found our way to each other, Draco.”

“Me, too.” Draco’s voice holds so much emotion. “I didn’t know how much I needed you until I had you.”

Harry tightens his hold on Draco for just a moment, hoping the squeeze expresses the comfort he’s trying to provide.

“I could say the same. I didn’t know how unhappy I was until you reminded me what true happiness feels like.”

Draco lifts Harry’s chin and cups his cheek gently, then covers Harry’s lips with his own. Harry immediately relaxes into the warmth that emanates from Draco’s body before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Draco’s tongue slides along his own, gently dancing together and exploring each other.

Draco eases out of the kiss, and Harry nearly wells up with the love radiating from Draco’s molten silver eyes.

“I love you. More than I thought possible. I'm so glad you’ve chosen me to be your partner.”

Harry is certain his heart will burst from the affection he feels for Draco in this moment. He’s sure he’s never loved anyone the way he loves Draco, even Ginny.

“I love you, too, Draco. I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Draco's face takes on a playful grin. “Would forever be all right?”

Harry chuckles. “I’d love that more than anything.”

“In that case…” Draco eases Harry out of his arms and takes both his hands. Harry’s body shivers at the loss of warmth and contact.

“Draco?”

“I love you. I never expected to have a chance to fall in love and be happy, and I most certainly didn’t expect that chance to come with you. But now, I can’t imagine my life any other way.”

Harry’s breath catches, and the eyes he managed to keep dry earlier are suddenly wet. _Is he about to do what I think he is?_

“So, if you’re amenable…” Draco draws a deep breath and smiles nervously. “…I’d like that ‘forever’ to begin as soon as possible.”

Draco drops elegantly to the ground onto one knee in front of Harry. Harry’s eyes blur with tears, and he’s forced to blink rapidly to bring Draco back into focus. When he can see clearly again, Draco is offering up a ring between them. _Oh, holy shit. Oh, holy shit. Oh, holy shit._

“Will you marry me, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes spill over and he falls to his knees in front of Draco, kissing him soundly. Draco returns the kiss enthusiastically, and Harry can’t believe he gets to kiss this man for the rest of his life. When he can’t breathe from the combination of crying and kissing, he buries his face in Draco’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Draco chuckles into his ear.

“You didn’t answer me, Harry. I’m inclined to think you’re turning me down.”

Harry laughs softly and eases back, finding that Draco’s eyes are just as wet as his own.

“Of course; I’ll marry you.”

Draco kisses him softly again and eases the ring onto the fourth finger of Harry’s left hand. Harry stares down at it, mind whirling. Draco proposed. They’re getting married. Not that he didn’t know they were eventually getting married, but there’s a ring on his finger, and that just makes it so much more real.

“We’re engaged.” Harry’s voice comes out an awed whisper, much thicker than he’d intended.

“We are,” Draco chuckles, pushing himself to stand and offering Harry his hand. Harry reaches up and takes the proffered hand and is pulled to his feet. He’s immediately engulfed in a tight hug and for several long moments, they just stand there, pressed together, basking in the knowledge that their forever officially begins tonight.

Harry extends one hand behind Draco’s back and concentrates, focusing his magic until what he’s waiting for lands in his hand. Draco feels the gentle movement and leans back to peer at Harry.

“I didn’t expect you to propose quite this soon, but I also knew I wanted us both to be able to wear an engagement ring. So, I ordered this and picked it up when I took James out to shop for Matthew before Christmas.” Harry slips the ring from the box. He’s had the ring Draco picked out made for him in platinum, ruby glistening in the middle, their initials engraved together inside. Holding it flat in his palm, he offers it to Draco.

“It’s perfect, Harry. Put it on for me?”

“Of course.”

Harry lifts Draco’s left hand and slips the ring onto his fourth finger, kissing him softly afterwards.

A triumphant scream has them both looking towards the pitch. Albus is holding his closed fist aloft, apparently having won their game.

“How should we tell the kids?” Harry asks, smiling in anticipation of their reactions.

“Let’s just wait for them to notice.” Draco grins and waves his left hand in front of Harry’s face.

* * *

The back door swings open and five grinning, laughing kids burst in. Harry can’t help but smile along with them.

“Hot cocoa?”

A chorus of yeses comes, and Harry levitates seven mugs of steaming liquid to the table where Draco is already seated with a large plate of biscuits.

Harry catches Draco’s eye and they share a smile, both wondering when the kids will figure out their secret. He feels like the rings on their fingers are very conspicuous, and it honestly feels a bit strange to be wearing a ring again.

Harry sips at his cocoa and then pushes it aside. Cookies and cocoa just don’t sound appealing at the moment, so he wraps his hands around the warm mug and studies his children instead. 

James’ black hair, so much like his own, is wild from flying and he’s snuggled close with Matthew. They’re feeding each other bits of cookie and stealing quick kisses when they think no one is looking. Both boys’ faces radiate happiness. 

Al and Scorpius are clearly discussing Quidditch as there are cookies, salt and pepper shakers, and pieces of napkin between them being moved around as they speak quietly, but intensely. Scorpius’ face is so like Draco’s when he’s passionate about something. Albus, always his emotional and empathetic one, is clearly trying to keep himself from getting more worked up than a Quidditch conversation warrants.

And Lily is chattering away to Draco, telling him all about her visit to Mina’s house the day before. She’s endlessly fascinated by the way Muggles live with no magic in the house at all, and she’s explaining it all to Draco at high speed, hands gesticulating just as rapidly. She’s preening under Draco’s attention, so proud of her first visit to a Muggle home.

 _This is perfection. Our family, together, right here at home._ Harry feels complete for the first time in a very long time.

“We’ve got a bit before midnight. Shall we watch a movie or play some games?” Draco speaks up from beside him. 

“Movie!” Lily screeches and dashes out of the room and makes for the stairs. Everyone sits in confused silence for a moment before Scorpius pipes up.

“Did…anyone understand that?” He takes in the shaking heads around the table. “Ok, good. Not just me.”

Lily comes thundering down the stairs as quickly as she’d gone up them and thrusts a DVD case into her dad’s hands.

“Mina let me borrow a movie! She said it’s really good!”

Harry studies the case in his hands. _How to Train Your Dragon._ Harry laughs to himself. _I’m afraid mine is as trained as he gets_.

“That sounds good. James, do you want to help me with some snacks and Al and Scorp can get the telly set up? Matthew can save you a seat.”

“Sure!” James pushes away from the table and everyone else follows. Lily hurries to start pulling blankets and extra pillows from the chest behind the couch and passing them to Matthew, who lays them out on the couches and chairs. Draco starts levitating furniture so everyone will be able to see the screen.

“What sounds good, James?” Harry asks as they make their way to the kitchen.

“Popcorn. Maybe some fruit. Matthew likes sweet stuff more than salty. Do we have any pretzels?”

Harry reaches into the cooling cupboard and hands James a bag of grapes.

“Why don’t you wash these and I’ll start the popcorn. Then we can see about pretzels. I think we might have some chocolate raisins, too.”

Harry sets a pan on the hob for popcorn and reaches past James for the oil. James’ hand flies out, grabbing Harry’s wrist before he can retrieve the bottle.

“Dad!” he gasps.

Harry tries and fails to hide a smile.

“Yes, son?”

James whirls to face him, grapes forgotten. Harry looks past James into the living room where Draco stands, watching them with a contented smile.

James’ eyes are wide as he looks down at the hand he’s gripping. He looks back to Harry’s face.

“Did Draco propose?” he asks quietly.

“He did.”

The corners of James’ mouth turn up.

“When??”

“While you all were on the pitch.”

A smile forms on James' face.

“Did you say yes?”

“Of course, I did.” Harry chuckles, and James’ smile gives way to an all-out grin. 

“Merlin’s balls!” James shouts, then Harry’s arms are full of his eldest son and he’s being squeezed in a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Dad. Draco is great.” James’ voice is close to his ear.

“What’s going on?” Lily’s voice comes from the living room.

“They’re engaged!” 

Lily’s squeal could shatter glass as she launches herself across the room to Harry. He pulls her in, hugging her against himself and James. He looks over James to see Matthew looking at them intently with a look Harry can’t quite interpret. Draco’s arms full of Scorpius and Al and sheer joy radiating off his face matches Harry’s own.

* * *

“Harry.”

He swims towards consciousness.

“Come on, love. Wake up.” Draco’s voice is soft and amused.

Harry cracks open an eye.

“You fell asleep during the movie. It’s nearly midnight.”

Harry shifts and pushes himself into wakefulness. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realise I was so tired.”

Draco shifts beneath him. “It’s quite all right. I enjoy holding you while you sleep. Let’s ring in the new year and then we can get some proper rest.”

Harry stretches and lifts himself to his feet before helping Draco off the couch. James hands them each a glass of sparkling cider.

“Ten! Nine!” the children all chorus together. 

Harry turns to Draco and gazes into piercing grey eyes. 

“Eight! Seven!”

Harry lifts a hand to Draco’s face. 

“Six! Five!”

Draco’s hand grips his hip and pulls him closer. 

“Four! Three!”

“I love you, Draco.”

“Two! One!”

“I love you, too, Harry.”

“Happy New Year!”

Draco’s lips meet Harry’s and he’s flooded with warmth, both from Draco’s mouth and the contented feeling of starting 2020 with _something good_ : his new fiancé and their beautiful family.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry bolts from bed and dashes for the loo, making it just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Even after there’s nothing left, he continues to retch, stomach still churning.

“Harry?” Draco’s sleepy voice precedes him. He pads through the doorway as Harry continues to heave. “Oh, love.” His voice is immediately sympathetic.

Harry feels Draco’s cool hand on his neck. He’s finally able to calm his stomach enough to slump against the seat, and he groans softly. He’s still just as nauseous as he was when he was jolted awake by the intense need to vomit.

The water runs momentarily in the sink and then Draco is kneeling next to him, damp flannel and a glass of water in hand. Draco flushes away the sick and gently wipes his face.

“Do you think you can rinse your mouth?”

“If I move, I’m afraid I’ll vomit again,” Harry murmurs.

“All right. Let’s give it a few minutes, then.” Draco’s hand rubs his lower back softly. “I didn't know you weren’t feeling well.”

“Neither did I,” Harry mumbles darkly.

A few minutes pass and Harry is finally able to lift his head to take the water glass Draco offers, swishing the cool liquid in his mouth and spitting it out. He finally looks at Draco, who is ruffled from sleep but looking very concerned.

“Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“You look dreadful, Harry. You’re quite pale.”

“I don’t know what happened. I was fine when we went to bed. I woke up retching, and almost didn’t make it to the loo.”

Another wave of nausea slams into him and Harry is retching again. There’s nothing left to come up but his body seems unaware of this particular fact and it takes several minutes before he manages to stop again.

Draco’s soft hands wipe his face once more. “Have you got any anti-nausea potion in the house?”

Harry shakes his head. He’s not usually one for stomach bugs, so he doesn’t keep it in their potion cupboard.

“Will you be all right if I leave you long enough to wake Scorpius? There’s some at the flat and he can go and fetch it.” Harry can tell from his tone that Draco is hesitant to leave him at all. He wonders how bad he must look for the normally calm man to be this worried.

“I’ll be right here.”

Draco hurries from the room, and Harry lays one arm on the cool porcelain, resting his head on top of it. He can’t remember the last time he felt this ill. He’s just decided to close his eyes when the queasiness returns and he’s forced to endure more violent spasms from his stomach. The muscles in his abdomen protest loudly, but he can do nothing to stop the retching.

Before he can regain some control of his gut, he hears footsteps return. Harry hears, rather than sees, Draco settle on the bathroom floor beside him.

“Scorp’s gone to get some potion. It shouldn’t take him more than a few minutes.” 

Harry’s only answer is to heave once more and then finds himself unable to stop.

Patiently, Draco wipes his face and runs a comforting hand up and down his back until he’s able to sit up for water again.

“Fuck, this is awful,” Harry moans, laying his head back on his arm and closing his eyes.

“It certainly seems awful.”

“Dad?” Scorpius’ voice drifts from the bedroom. 

“We’re in the loo, Son,” Draco calls softly.

“I’ve got the…Oh!” Scorpius hesitates. “He looks awful, Dad. Is he going to be all right?”

“Now that you've brought this, hopefully he can stop throwing up long enough for us to figure that out.”

“Thanks, Scorp,” Harry manages, not bothering to open his eyes.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I hope you feel better.”

Scorpius’ footsteps fade into the distance and there’s a distinct _pop_ as Draco opens a phial of potion.

“Do you think you can get this down?” Draco’s voice is close and Harry opens an eye to find him right there. Anti-nausea potions are, on the whole, disgusting in taste, and he’s not sure he can swallow it and make it stay put. “It’s not as vile as store-bought. I brewed it myself.”

“How long do I have to keep it down?”

“Maybe sixty seconds. It’ll work within two or three minutes.”

“Ok.” Draco helps Harry to sit up and tip the potion into his mouth. He swallows and immediately gags.

“Breathe through your nose. You only have to keep it down for a minute.” Draco’s coaching helps, and Harry breathes, willing his stomach to stay put.

“You should be good now, even if you throw up.”

“I can feel it working already. Thank fuck.” Harry leans into Draco and waits as the potion’s effects spread through his body.

“Better?” Draco asks.

Harry slowly takes inventory of his body. Nothing hurts, nothing seems off besides being tired and the residual feelings from all that vomiting.

“Yeah. I’m still tired and feel a little gross, but I’m not nauseated.”

“Let’s get you back in bed, then. You should have a good 4-5 hours of relief from that potion.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s about half four.”

Harry shifts off Draco, who immediately stands and helps him to his feet. He’s not entirely steady, but Draco guides him to the bed, pulls back the covers, and tucks him in. Draco stretches out a hand and _Accios_ his wand, waving it over Harry’s forehead and studying the numbers that appear.

“No fever.” Draco casts a gentle cleaning spell on Harry’s mouth, ridding him of that awful taste that lingers after throwing up.

“I have no idea where I would have picked up a bug, but clearly I’ve gotten something.”

“Why don’t you try to sleep it off if you can? We’ll see if you feel better in the morning. I’ll get you some water and a basin, just in case.”

“What time do we have to take the kids?”

“Train leaves at 11.00, but love, you can’t go if you’re like this. Let’s see how you are in a few hours.”

Harry groans, but he knows Draco is right. He snuggles down in the covers and Draco kisses his forehead.

“I’ll be right back with your water and a basin. We’ll get some more sleep and maybe things will look better in a couple of hours.”

Harry closes his eyes and never hears Draco come back in.

* * *

Harry bolts upright in bed and reaches out for the basin on the table, retching violently. _Fuck_. He hears a movement-sensing charm go off and knows that means Draco will be in soon. Everything he tries to quell his nausea is useless, and he just ends up heaving to the point of tears, muscles sore from his earlier bout of vomiting.

Draco slips in the door just in time to see him heaving and crying in pain and frustration.

“No better, then,” Draco sighs, disappears into the loo, and returns to perch on the bed next to Harry. There’s a _pop_ from the cork of another phial of potion and a cool rag on the back of his neck. “I’ve got another potion for you as soon as you think you can manage it, love.” 

Harry waits for the nausea to subside, then nods. Draco passes him the potion and supports him as Harry tips his head back to take it. Vanishing the sick and casting a cleaning charm for Harry’s mouth, Draco puts the basin back on the table and pulls Harry against his shoulder, holding him while they wait for the potion to kick in.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry breathes a relieved sigh as the potion takes effect. _Thank Merlin for magic_.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Do you want me to see if Hermione can come stay with you while I take the kids to King’s Cross?”

Harry’s heart sinks at the thought of not being able to take his kids to the train. “Maybe I can—”

“No, Harry. You really don’t look good. I can take the kids; it will be fine.” Draco’s voice is sympathetic but firm, and Harry knows he’s right. There’s no way he could handle Apparating right now, and he’s not entirely sure he could stand on the platform long enough to see them off.

“I’ll be ok alone. I don’t need Hermione. You’ll be back before this round wears off, right?”

“I’ll come straight back here as soon as they’re safely on the train.” Draco hesitates. “Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

“Yeah. You’ll have your mobile if I need you, right?”

“Of course.” Draco kisses his forehead softly. “I’m going to go get the kids ready and we’ll all come in before we go, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Harry watches Draco cross the room and slip out the door before burrowing down into his pillow and closing his eyes.

He doesn’t open them again until he hears the doorknob turn. He pushes himself up to sitting as all four kids are ushered in in front of Draco.

“Are you going to be all right, Dad?” Al looks rather distraught.

“I’ll be fine, Al. Just some kind of stomach bug or something. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.” Harry frowns. “I’m sorry I can’t see you four off at the station.” 

“It’s fine, Dad.” James looks concerned, as well. “Draco will take us. You really look like you could use the rest. You’ll write though, to let us know when you feel better?”

“Of course.” Harry musters a smile.

“All right, we need to head out,” Draco says softly.

The kids all move forward to hug him, Scorpius included. “I love all four of you very much. Have a good term, and write whenever you can, okay?”

The kids and Draco head for the door. “James,” Harry calls softly, “come here for a minute.” 

James turns back and comes over to the bedside.

“Do you have everything you need? Including anything you and Matthew may need?”

“Yes, Dad,” James smiles. “We’re not having sex, you know.” 

“There’s an awful lot you can do without having sex, James.” Harry shakes his head just a bit. “Write and tell me if you decide there’s something you need, okay?”

“I will.” James heads for the door.

“Keep an eye on your sister, and be careful, ok?”

“Of course.” James pauses at the door. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, son.” Harry watches the door snick closed behind James and sighs.

Harry lays and listens to trunks bumping and feet stomping below him until there’s a pop and Harry knows they’re gone.

He reaches for his mobile.

_Sent: Thank you for taking such good care of me and my kids. I couldn’t wish for a better partner. I love you._

He closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep.

* * *

Draco is smoothing Harry’s hair, waiting for the third round of anti-nausea potion to kick in. Another round of extreme nausea and painful vomiting assaulted Harry as soon as the previous dose wore off, and as the potion kicks in, Harry heaves a deep breath and sighs.

“Better?” Draco asks softly. Harry nods and Draco takes his hand. “Will you let me call a Healer to come check you over? You’ve not kept anything down all day and I’m concerned.”

“I want to protest, but I’m getting concerned, too. This isn’t normal for me.” Harry really doesn’t want to see a Healer, but he also can’t keep this up.

“I have a private Healer that I’ve used for years. I’ll Floo and see if she’s available.” Draco steps from the room and Harry hears him descend the stairs. Truth be told, Harry doesn’t know what’s wrong, and it doesn’t feel like any other sickness he’s had before. He’s also generally a pretty healthy person and doesn’t usually get knocked on his arse by a simple bug. He can’t help but let his mind wander to dark places. Every time he gets _something good_ , something gets taken away.

Draco opens the bedroom door and interrupts his thoughts.

“Healer Carr will be here in a few moments. She’s just gathering what she needs to check you over.”

“Well, that’s quicker than I anticipated,” Harry sighs. “At least we might figure out what’s going on.”

“I’m quite worried, Harry. You seemed fine last night.”

“I felt fine last night. I was tired, but I didn’t feel at all ill.”

There’s a soft knock at the bedroom door, and Draco moves to open it.

“Healer Carr, thank you for coming.” He ushers her in and moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to Harry, taking his hand. “This is my fiancé, Harry.”

“Of course, Mr Malfoy. I’m glad to be of help.” Healer Carr pulls her wand and conjures a small table, setting her medical bag on top of it. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter, though I’m sorry about the circumstances.”

“We appreciate your willingness to come so quickly.”

“The situation certainly seems to warrant it.” Her trained eye looks Harry over. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“We went to bed last night, and I was tired, but didn’t feel at all ill. Then just after four this morning, I woke up incredibly nauseous and vomiting. It didn’t stop until Draco got me some anti-nausea potion.” 

“And you were okay after that?” She makes notes on the parchment in front of her.

“I went back to sleep until the potion wore off and it immediately started again. It’s like being hit by a bludger.”

“I see.” Healer Carr turns her attention to Draco. “Your home-brewed anti-nausea potion, Mr Malfoy?”

“Yes, the same I’ve always brewed. He just had a third dose before I called you. But he hasn’t kept anything down all day.”

“Any fever?”

“No.” Harry shakes his head.

“Pain?”

“Other than my stomach muscles from all the retching, no.”

“All right, let’s see what we have here.” Healer Carr begins casting over Harry, watching intently as spells provide numbers and change colours. Several of the spells are uncomfortable and Harry squeezes Draco’s hand as they run through him. 

Healer Carr furrows her brow and rummages in her bag. “Are you willing to provide a blood sample, Mr Potter?”

“Will it help?”

“I think it will be informative.”

“That’s fine, then.” Harry obligingly holds out his arm wincing as the Healer slides a needle in and fills three phials with blood. She pulls several small tubes from her bag and drops blood into each, casting spells and recording results.

“All right, Mr Potter. I have some questions.” Healer Carr eyes them both with a look Harry can’t quite interpret. Harry nods, seeing Draco do the same.

“Who was your pediatric Healer?”

“I didn’t have one. I was raised by Muggles. Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts was the first magical medical care I had, at least after I was 15 months old. I don’t know who I saw before that.”

“I see. Are you sexually active?”

“We are, yes,” Harry answers firmly.

“How many partners do you currently have?”

“Just Draco.”

Healer Carr nods. “Which of you is the receiving partner?”

“I am.” Harry’s brain is reeling, trying to figure out how all of this fits with his illness.

Healer Carr nods again and returns to her tubes, noting the contents of one.

“I think I’ve found the issue. Would you like Mr Malfoy to step out?”

“No.” Harry’s voice is firm. Absolutely nothing that could exit the Healer’s mouth would make him want to go through this without Draco. He squeezes Draco’s hand tightly and feels the returning pressure, finding it comforting. “Draco is my partner and my fiancé; I would prefer he be with me.”

“Very well.” Harry tries desperately to interpret the Healer’s expression but he can figure out nothing.

“Mr Potter, you’re pregnant.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re aware that a small percentage of male wizards can carry children, yes?”

“Yes. Both my biological sons are carriers.” Harry stumbles over his words as he tries to process what he’s being told. “We were told it came from the Weasley side of their genetics. Almost all of the males in the family are carriers.”

“And your family?”

“No Potter males have a recorded history of being carriers. My aunt and uncle never had me tested, but our family Healer told me it was highly unlikely that I could carry.”

“You are very clearly a carrier, Mr Potter, seeing as how you’re currently pregnant.” 

Harry’s mind is whirling. He’s pregnant?!? He’s not supposed to be able to carry. He and Draco never discussed more children. This wasn’t part of their plan. Harry glances at Draco whose eyes are wide with shock.

“Would you give us a moment?” Harry requests, squeezing Draco’s hand tightly.

“Of course. I’ll be in the hall when you’re ready.” Healer Carr moves to the hall, shutting the door behind herself.

The instant the door is shut, he’s caught up in Draco’s arms and they hold each other close. Pregnant. He’s pregnant. There’s a baby that’s half him and half Draco, and it’s inside him. The mix of surprise and hope and something else he can’t pinpoint has his eyes welling with tears.

“Draco?” Harry speaks softly into his fiancé’s ear. 

“Yes, love?” Draco shifts to look at him. 

“Are you upset?”

“What?! No!” Draco seems almost offended by the suggestion. His voice is filled with shock when he continues. “Harry. You’re pregnant.”

“That’s what the Healer said.” Harry finds himself unable to hold back his tears and they spill over, rolling down his cheeks. Draco draws him close again and wraps warm arms around him.

“Harry.” Draco pulls back to look at Harry’s face. “Fuck. I’m not upset; I’m just really surprised.”

“So am I. I was told with 99% certainty that I was not a carrier.” He gestures to his stomach. “Clearly, that was not the case.”

“Are you…okay with carrying a child?” Draco’s voice waivers. Harry’s unsure exactly what he’s asking, but he’s pretty sure Draco wants to know if he’s thinking about termination.

“It’s not something I’ve considered before, honestly.” Harry finds both Draco’s hands and takes them in his own. “Draco, I could have been completely happy with our life and our blended kids. But this is a baby that’s half you and half me. And the more I sit here and think about that, the more I think that’s wonderful.”

Draco’s face splits into a soft grin. “We’re going to have a baby?”

Harry is certain his grin matches Draco’s. “We’re going to have a baby.” He leans in and kisses Draco softly. “We should probably see what Healer Carr has to say and find out more about what we need to do now.”

Draco nods and kisses him again. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too.”

Harry raises a hand and the bedroom door swings open. Healer Carr steps in a moment later.

“Thank you, Healer Carr. We just needed a moment to wrap our heads around the news.” Draco eases back around to sit next to Harry.

The Healer nods. “It’s a lot to take in, especially if you didn’t know Mr Potter could carry.”

Harry smiles. “We certainly would have planned this better if we had known.”

“What do we need to do from here, Healer?” Draco asks. “Obviously, neither of us has any idea what’s involved with a male pregnancy.”

“I’d like to perform a more thorough exam, if Mr Potter is comfortable with that. We’ll know more about your specific situation with that information.”

“That would be fine.” 

“Wonderful. You’ll need to lie flat and disrobe from the waist down. Would you like me to step out while you get comfortable?”

“That’s all right.” Harry shifts to lie flat and lifts his hips, pressing his joggers and pants down his legs under the blankets before kicking them off.

Healer Carr eases the blanket down and his shirt up to expose Harry’s abdomen down to his hip bones. “There are more potential complications with male pregnancies, so we need to make sure several things are in order for it to be a viable and safe pregnancy.”

Harry’s heart feels like it’s in a vice. He certainly hadn’t intended to get pregnant, but now that he knows there’s a part of Draco growing inside him, he wants this baby. He’d be devastated if there was a problem. Draco squeezes his hand, and he nods to the healer.

“First, we’ll make sure that your body has begun to properly form a womb. This will be much like the imaging a woman would have at the beginning of a pregnancy. You’re both familiar with that?”

Both men nod.

“Very well. I’ll apply a thick potion to your lower abdomen first and then conjure an imaging bubble. I’ll use my wand to transmit the image and I’ll explain as I go.”

Harry shivers as the cold potion is spread around, but he watches intently as the imaging bubble appears and the Healer begins to direct her wand across his stomach. Her brow is furrowed and Harry gets more nervous as the minutes pass. He doesn’t remember this taking so long with any of his previous kids.

“There we are!” The healer’s face relaxes and she gestures to the bubble. “Do you see the dark circle?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s the beginning of your womb. Your magic knew you conceived and worked to form a place for the baby to develop.” She directs her wand at a slightly different angle. “And there—” she points to a white bean-shaped area within the dark circle,” —is your baby.”

Tears spring to Harry’s eyes, and he squeezes Draco’s hand, looking over at him. Draco’s eyes are also bright. _That’s our baby. Draco and I made a baby_.

“You look to be about four weeks pregnant. It’s the equivalent of about six weeks in a female pregnancy. Let’s see if we can find a heartbeat.” Healer Carr waves her wand at the bubble and then presses it to Harry’s abdomen. The soft swishing of a fetal heartbeat fills the room.

“Sweet Merlin,” Draco murmurs. “Harry, we’re having a baby.” 

“I know.” Harry’s whole body is flooding with warmth at the thought. He’s absolutely terrified and this was not in their plans, but he’s daring to hope that this baby is part of their _something good_.

“Everything there looks good, gentlemen. This appears to be a healthy and viable pregnancy. You’re due around 22 August.” The potion is siphoned off Harry’s abdomen. “You have the option to terminate for about six more weeks. Am I correct in my assumption that you wish to decline that option?” 

“We want our baby,” Harry says firmly.

“That’s wonderful. The next thing I’d like to check is to see if your magic is properly forming a birth canal. Are you familiar with male childbirth?”

“I’m not.”

“The preferred way for men to give birth is naturally. Your body should be forming an additional path from your womb to your rectum. If it’s forming properly, you’ll be able to birth much like a female pregnancy but through the anus.”

“How can you tell?”

“I will have you lift one knee to your chest and I will cast a relaxing charm and slide two lubricated fingers into your rectum. I’ll press lightly on the outside just above where the womb is sitting. That will allow me to feel a bump or bulge if the connection is being properly formed.”

Harry shifts uncomfortably. That doesn’t sound at all enjoyable — the birthing _or_ the checking.

“And if it’s not properly forming?” Draco asks. “Is it dangerous?”

“It’s not dangerous in and of itself, but if there’s no connection, the baby has to be removed by using a cutting charm through skin and muscle, then moving organs to access and remove the womb and the child. It's a much higher risk to both the carrying father and the baby. In the case of canal agenesis, we begin a regime of potions to help the body prepare for the trauma at the 20-week mark.”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods. He’s finding it hard to remain calm and accept the testing and prodding with no time to mentally prepare himself, especially this one since it’s invasive in a very personal manner. Healer Carr moves to her conjured table and begins pulling more equipment from her bag.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice is low and just for him. “Are you all right?”

“It’s just a lot to take in and a lot happening to my body. It’s ok. Just stay with me.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“Are you ready?” Healer Carr moves to stand beside his hips. Harry nods and she pulls back the bed covers, casting the charm before easing Harry’s left knee up so he can pull it towards his chest.

Draco is gently stroking his hair, whispering quietly in his ear. “I love you, Harry. I know this is a shock, but we’re having a baby. I can’t believe you’re carrying our child.” Harry focuses on Draco’s touch and his words and tries not to pay attention to what Healer Carr is doing.

Harry feels his entrance breached and the Healer’s other hand begins pressing firmly, between his hip bones but slightly lower. Harry’s stomach lurches and Healer Carr glances to his face and then back to her work. 

“The nausea from this will pass. It’s just your womb displacing your other organs.”

Her hand continues moving and pressing at intervals. She finally seems to find what she’s looking for and presses more firmly for several moments, fingers twisting and pressing inside in response. Harry is watching her face intently for a clue but can gather nothing until she nods, lifts her outside hand, and withdraws her fingers. He winces in discomfort, despite the charm.

“Your canal is forming well thus far. We will regularly perform checks during your prenatal treatment to make sure it continues, but usually, if there is an issue, it would be complete agenesis, which you do not have.”

Harry lowers his leg and feels Draco ease the covers back over him. He’s breathing a sigh of relief knowing that so far, there’ve been no complications…other than the _being pregnant_ bit, that is.

“Your pregnancy appears viable, and you’re right where you should be for four weeks along. Your body is also doing a proper job of adapting.” The Healer removes her gloves and turns her attention back to the two men. “Now, what questions do you have?”

“Can you do anything for the nausea he’s having?” Draco asks. “And is anti-nausea potion safe?”

“I recommend a longer-acting anti-nausea. I can give you the directions for brewing, Mr Malfoy. A male pregnancy usually entails pretty severe exhaustion, nausea, and magic fatigue from about four to twelve weeks. Your body has a lot more work to do than a female body. Unfortunately, it will probably get worse before it gets better.”

“Is it dangerous?” This is becoming Draco’s mantra with the Healer. He’s always focused on Harry’s well-being and safety. And, Harry supposes, the well-being and safety of their baby, now.

“If he’s not able to keep anything down for more than 24 hours, is passing out, or has cramps that could be contractions, he needs to go to St Mungo’s.”

“Can I work?”

“That’s a personal decision. If you’re feeling well and not experiencing magic fatigue, there’s no reason you can’t. But male pregnancies carry a high miscarriage rate when you don’t listen to your body and rest enough. I would advise you to err on the side of caution and not work if you’re not feeling up to it. If you are feeling well, there’s no reason not to.”

“Who do I see for prenatal care? Can you handle that or do I need a specialist?”

“Being a private Healer, I can oversee your care, but I suggest you also make a connection with the Male Pregnancy Clinic at St Mungo’s. You’ll need their care if you need to be admitted and, unless you want a home birth, during labour and delivery. I can send a referral over with all today’s testing and results.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Draco says. 

Harry gathers his courage and asks a question he knows both he and Draco want the answer to.

“Is anal penetration safe during a male pregnancy?” 

“Yes. Any penetration, including anal sex, is safe. Your body has a membrane between your womb and your rectum that keeps the baby protected and that membrane won’t dilate and open until you’re in labour.”

 _Well, thank Merlin for that._

“When do you need to see me again?”

I’d really like to monitor you weekly for now, just until you’re through the first twelve weeks. Your risk of complications and miscarriage drops drastically at that point, and we would move to every 3-4 weeks at that time. It would, of course, pick back up when you get close to delivery.”

“Every Thursday, then?”

“That should be fine.” Healer Carr waves her wand and her equipment begins packing itself neatly away. “I’m sure you gentlemen have much to discuss, but Mr Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to see me to the Floo, I will pass back the recipe for the long-acting anti-nausea and enough doses to get you through the time required to brew it.”

“Of course.” Draco rises, kisses Harry quickly, and accompanies Healer Carr from the room.

Harry closes his eyes and attempts to reign in the swirl of thoughts and emotions in his head. He certainly didn’t know he could get pregnant. He didn’t plan on becoming pregnant. And if he’s being very honest with himself, he doesn’t necessarily _want_ to be pregnant. He does, however, very much want the baby that will come at the end.

Twenty-four hours ago, he had no idea he wanted a baby with Draco. And now…Harry lifts his hand to rest low on his muscled abdomen. The mix of emotions, and the speed at which he has travelled through them, begins leaking from his eyes. He lies there, hand splayed over their baby, and lets the tears flow.

He hears Draco return, followed by the rustle of clothing and then bedsheets. Draco’s side of the bed dips, and Draco’s hand joins Harry’s.

They lay in silence — but for their breathing — for long minutes before Harry shifts himself into Draco’s arms and, exhausted, drifts to sleep.

He wakes to Draco’s gentle shaking.

“Harry.” His tone is soft. “Come on, love. You need to get this potion down before the other wears off. Unless you want another round of vomiting, that is.”

“Fuck. No.” Harry rubs the sleep from his face and sits up. He takes the phial Draco is offering and downs it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He climbs back into bed and Harry snuggles against him. A soft kiss drops into his hair, and Harry smiles softly. 

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

“That makes two of us.” Harry can’t help but laugh.

“It’s another thing I never thought I’d have a chance at.”

“Hmmm?”

“Having a baby with the man I’m in love with.” Draco’s fingers card gently through Harry’s hair. “I never expected to fall in love and beyond that, I can’t carry. And I never would’ve pushed for us to adopt or have a surrogate. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the surprise, but I can’t find it anywhere in myself to be sorry this is happening.”

“I don’t particularly want to be pregnant.” Harry feels Draco tense beside him. “But I very much want the baby we’ll be getting at the end of it.”

“I can’t say I blame you. I don’t think I’d particularly like the process of being pregnant, either.”

“I also just don’t know much about male pregnancy. I suppose I should learn. And James will need to learn, as well.” Harry pauses thoughtfully. “Do you want to see if Hermione wants to come for dinner?”

“What?!” Clearly, Draco has missed the connection. When in need of knowledge, recruit Hermione.

“I wanted to give her our engagement news in person before the papers figure it out. And if we tell her I’m pregnant, there’s a guaranteed pile of reputable reading material being delivered here by tomorrow evening.”

Draco’s chest shakes with laughter. “Do you feel up to having her over?”

“Provided this potion keeps working, I’ll be fine. Hermione has seen me much worse than this.”

“See if she’s available, then. But we’re ordering in so you can still take it easy.”

Harry raises a hand and waits for his phone to land in his palm.

_Sent: Hey, do you want to join us for dinner tonight? Nothing fancy, we’ll order in._

**Received: Sounds good.**

_Sent: Come on over whenever. Floo is open._

“Do you suppose we should just wait for her to notice the rings?” Draco muses as they pull on some clothes.

“It’s Hermione. She will, hands down, notice the rings within sixty seconds of stepping through the Floo.” Harry laughs. “She’ll also nail down that I don’t feel well and will be pestering me about what’s wrong and if I’ve seen a Healer. I’m willing to bet she knows we’re engaged and I’m pregnant within five minutes of her arrival.”

“In that case, I’ll just enjoy the show.” 

Harry’s pouring through takeaway menus at the kitchen counter when the Floo chimes, announcing Hermione’s imminent arrival.

“Love!” Harry calls. “Hermione’s on her way!”

Draco emerges from the pantry with a case of butterbeer just as Hermione steps through the flames. Harry winks at him before he moves to hug Hermione hello.

“Hi, Hermione.”

“Hello, Harry. How was your New Year’s?” She hugs him back.

“Really good. Yours?”

“It was fine.”

Hermione steps back from their embrace and smiles past Harry.

“Hello, Draco.”

“Hello, Her—”

“Harry James Potter!” Hermione cuts off Draco’s greeting and grabs Harry’s left hand, looking to the shiny band and stones gleaming there.

Draco’s laughter rings through the kitchen and living room.

“Yes, Hermione?” Harry tries (and fails) to keep from grinning.

“Have you got something to tell me?”

Harry feels Draco’s hand on the small of his back and he leans slightly into the touch.

“Draco proposed on New Year’s Eve. We’re— _oof_!” Harry’s thankful for Draco’s supporting hand as Hermione nearly knocks him backwards with another, much tighter hug. He chuckles and eases back.

“You’re engaged!” She turns to hug Draco who looks positively stunned to be hugged by one Hermione Granger.

“We are,” Draco confirms, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. 

“I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thank you.” Harry leans into Draco. “We’re both excited. We wanted you to know before the press catches wind.”

Hermione shoots Harry a playful glare.

“I’d never let you hear the end of it if I found out from the Prophet!” Hermione pauses and narrows her eyes, looking at Harry more closely. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I was a bit off earlier.” Harry feels Draco shaking with silent laughter next to him.

“And now?” They move to have a seat in the living room, Hermione taking up her favourite spot in the overstuffed easy chair while Harry tucks himself under Draco’s arm on the couch.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Did you see a Healer?”

“I did, actually. Draco made sure of that.”

“Good, because Merlin knows you wouldn’t do it yourself.” Hermione gives Draco a commiserating look before looking back to Harry. “Was it anything serious?”

“You might say that.” Harry smiles up at Draco before looking back to Hermione. “I’m pregnant.”

Hermione’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. This is one of only a handful of times in nearly thirty years that Harry has seen the brilliant witch absolutely speechless.

Harry turns back to Draco. “I told you.”

“You were not wrong, love.” Draco smiles and pecks Harry’s lips.

“You’re _pregnant_?” Hermione sounds completely stunned.

“I am. Four weeks.”

“I didn’t even know you were a carrier.”

“Neither did we,” Draco smirks. “It was a bit of a surprise.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Harry chuckles again.

“Are you really going to be all right?” Hermione’s concerned look tugs at his emotions. She’s seen him through a lot of shite and has been the only one to worry about him for a long time. He’s oddly glad to have her concern now.

“Healer Carr says everything is right on track. I’m due on 22 August.” Harry feels the warmth of Draco’s hand moving to lay on his abdomen. 

“Are you both okay with this?” Hermione asks carefully. Harry can tell she’s still reeling from the news and is trying to gauge their reactions. He can’t blame her; he’s still not completely accustomed to the idea himself. He closes his eyes and sighs softly when Draco’s lips meet his temple with a gentle kiss.

“It certainly wasn’t planned, and we were both rather shocked. But I’m finding it impossible to be anything but excited about having a baby with Harry.”

Hermione’s face finally gives way to a smile. “I think it’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Harry works to rein in his emotions before he cries over having Hermione’s support. _Do pregnant men get to blame the crying on hormones?_ “It’s been a lot to absorb, but we’re figuring it out.”

“Have you started doing any research on male pregnancy?” Hermione leans forward eagerly and Harry shakes his head.

“We’ve literally known less than four hours. We really only know what Healer Carr has told us.”

“I’ll see what I can find and send some things over.”

Hermione looks quite confused when both men burst out laughing.


	13. Chapter 13

“Draco,” Harry murmurs, eyes closed. His stomach is threatening to revolt once again. It’s been an ongoing struggle for the two weeks since finding out he’s pregnant. 

“Hmmm?” Draco stirs next to him.

“Draco.” He tries to speak louder without further upsetting his teetering stomach. “I need help.” 

Draco is suddenly right next to him and far more alert. “What’s wrong? Are you nauseous again?”

“If I move, I’ll puke. Can you get me a dose of potion?”

Draco procures a phial from the dresser and helps Harry to swallow the contents. Draco sighs softly before climbing back into bed. 

“I’m sorry, love. I just can’t get it to stop.”

“I’m not upset with you, Harry. I just hate seeing you so sick, knowing it’s my fault, and being unable to help.” Draco’s hand covers Harry’s and squeezes softly. 

“Draco, it’s not your fault!” Harry sighs, hating that his fiancé feels guilty over his illness. “I mean, yes, it’s because I’m pregnant, but it’s not like you did something malicious. And the potion you brewed is helping. The nausea just keeps getting worse.”

“Healer Carr did say it could get worse before it gets better.”

“Is she still coming this morning?” 

“She is. She’ll be here in about 15 minutes.” 

“We can ask her if there’s anything else to be done.” 

Harry feels the magic of the potion wash through him and finally opens his eyes. Concerned grey eyes meet his. 

“Much better now.” 

“Do you think you can eat?” Draco’s hand smooths his hair. 

“I’ll eat after Healer Carr leaves.” Harry makes a face. “If she does an internal exam, I don’t want to actually vomit.”

“Fair enough.” 

Harry smiles softly. “I do hope she does some imaging. I’d like to see our little one again.” 

“I would, too. I know you’re ill, but so far, I can’t see any evidence that you’re pregnant. Seeing that tiny baby in the bubble reminds me that it will be worth it in the end.” 

“I don’t think it will be long before you can see something. I can feel where the baby is sitting.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. It just feels like something hard is sitting in there right now. It’s right—“ Harry takes Draco’s hand and places it over the spot. “—there.”

Draco’s hand presses softly and his face falls. “I don’t feel anything.”

“It won’t be long.”

Draco kisses Harry softly. “Six weeks today. I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have a baby with you.” 

Harry sighs softly. “I’m still scared. Being pregnant is overwhelming at best and terrifying at worst.”

“I can’t even imagine. _I’m_ scared, and it’s not my body.” 

“I’m excited, too. I know we didn’t plan this, and we hadn’t planned on starting parenthood over again at 40, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

The Floo chime from downstairs startles them both and Harry sighs. He’s anxious to make sure everything is ok, but he really doesn’t like anyone but Draco touching his body right now.

“I’ll undress if you want to go meet Healer Carr?”

Draco nods and kisses Harry’s forehead before heading down the stairs. No sooner has Harry undressed and slipped under the covers again than Healer Carr bustles in. 

“Mr Potter, how are you feeling?” She conjures her table and begins to set up her equipment. 

“I’m still quite ill when the potion wears off. I’m also even more exhausted than last week.”

“Hmmm.” The Healer makes some notes and Harry is worried that she seems more concerned than before. He wishes she was more personable and less brusque, but she’s magically and medically competent, and that matters more.

“Any magical fatigue?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“To be fair, love,” Draco says gently, “you're more powerful than the average wizard, and you haven’t done anything magically taxing.”

“What do you mean by that, Mr Malfoy?”

“For anything around the house, Harry doesn’t even need to use a wand. I don’t think he’d feel magical fatigue the rest of us would.”

“I see.” Healer Carr’s attention returns to Harry. “You use mostly wandless magic?”

“Yes. I use my wand at work for the intricate imaging dissection, and I use it at home for more strenuous or detailed tasks, but on the whole, I don’t need one unless it’s a substantial task.” Harry shrugs. He always feels self-conscious when he discusses his magical power. He hates feeling like he’s bragging when he did nothing to gain his higher magic levels. 

“But you haven’t required a wand for anything you’d normally do wandlessly?”

“No. I don’t even remember the last time I used my wand. Maybe over the holiday, when we were decorating for Christmas?”

“I want you to let me know if you start requiring wand work where you wouldn’t normally.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to start with the usual health spells and bloodwork, and then we’ll check on the baby.” 

Harry nods and Draco takes his hand, knowing that he will be uncomfortable. Healer Carr begins casting. 

“Are you eating well?”

“When I can. The nausea makes it challenging.”

“You’ve lost another four pounds in addition to the two and a half you lost last week, and you’re anaemic. You need to eat more to keep you and the baby nourished.” She continues her spell work. “You’re not feeling faint?”

“No, just tired.”

Harry shudders as another spell washes through him. He closes his eyes as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him. This is all so much, and there’s no way to get a break. 

“Other than your weight and iron, everything else looks good, medically speaking.” She rummages in her bag and withdraws a syringe. “Let’s get the bloodwork going so it can brew while we check on the baby.”

Harry extends his arm and feels the needle slip into his vein. Suddenly everything is swimming and his vision is closing in from the sides and everything he can still see is hazy.

“Harry!” Draco’s voice sounds like it’s at the far end of a tunnel. 

“Hmm?” Harry's consciousness stretches towards Draco’s voice, struggling to form words. The world around him moves slowly, through a thick fog. He’s aware of Draco’s voice and Healer Carr’s, but he can’t make sense of the words. 

He feels a potion bottle being pressed to his lips and opens his mouth obediently. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he opens his eyes and sees terrified silver eyes wet with tears staring back. 

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Draco’s voice is barely a whisper and laced with a mix of relief and fear. 

“What happened?” 

“You almost fainted. I gave you a mild version of Pepper-Up to prevent you from completely losing consciousness.” Healer Carr’s voice is more serious than before. “Your body is struggling, Mr Potter. You really must eat more and rest as much as possible. I’m afraid you’re going to land in St Mungo’s if you don’t.”

Harry nods slightly, and Draco squeezes his hand. “I’ll make sure he does.” Draco’s voice is firmer now. 

“Very well. Let me start this bloodwork, and we’ll make sure the baby is doing all right.” She turns to her table, and Draco turns back to Harry. Soft lips kiss his forehead and a hand cups his cheek.

“You scared me. You went absolutely white,” Draco murmurs. 

“I’m sorry.” Guilt tugs at Harry’s gut. He hadn’t meant to frighten his partner, but his body doesn’t always cooperate anymore. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Draco says firmly, “but I’d be very happy if I'd never have to see you that shade of white again.”

“Okay,” Healer Carr moves beside Harry’s hips. “We’ll do some imaging to take measurements and check your birth canal development today. Do you have a preference for which first?”

“Canal first, please. Let’s get it over with.” 

“Very well.” She dons gloves and pulls back the covers. “Can you feel where the baby is sitting?”

“I can; I noticed a couple of days ago. It just feels like something hard is sitting between my hips.”

“That’s a good sign. It means your womb is growing. Can you show me where?”

Harry places his hand over the spot he’d shown Draco earlier.

“Good. Knee up for me, please.” 

Harry lifts his knee and Healer Carr’s charm washes over him and fingers slide in. He feels the hard spot in his abdomen shift with the internal pressure and press towards his hand. 

“Can Draco feel? He couldn’t feel it earlier, but I think he could now.”

“Of course.” 

Harry guides Draco’s hand over his womb and lays his hand on top.

“Press down lightly, Mr Malfoy. My fingers will apply pressure from underneath and you should be able to feel a hard, round mass about the size of your palm. That’s the womb.”

Draco presses softly and gasps. “There it is.” 

“Apply a little more pressure for me.” 

Draco obliges and Harry feels Healer Carr’s fingers twist and press inside his body, but he’s completely distracted by the wonder on Draco’s face. 

“That’s amazing. It makes it so much more real.” Draco’s voice is barely a whisper and full of absolute awe. Harry would like to blame hormones for the tears that spring to his eyes, but he’s pretty sure he’d have the same reaction to Draco’s obvious love for their child, pregnant or not. 

“Everything is progressing well.” The Healer withdraws her fingers and doffs her gloves. “We will continue to check every other week until twelve weeks. The canal is usually fully developed at that time. After that it will just be quick checks of your membrane.”

She reaches into her bag once more and withdraws the imaging potion. 

Draco grins at Harry. For as much as this was unexpected, they’ve warmed quite quickly to the idea of having a baby. They’re now both just as excited as if they’d been trying to conceive. 

Healer Carr spreads the potion across Harry’s abdomen and conjures a bubble. 

“Ready, gentlemen?”

“Yes!” they reply in unison. Draco laces his fingers through Harry’s and squeezes. 

Healer Carr cracks a rare smile. “Here we go then.”

The bubble fills with the hazy dark image Harry now knows is his womb. Healer Carr freezes the image at several points to take and notate measurements as she goes. Finally, the tiny white shape of the baby appears.

Harry loves watching Draco’s absolute joy at seeing that image in the bubble almost as much as he loves seeing the baby himself. 

“If you look here—“ Healer Carr gestures to the image she’s just frozen, “—you can see tiny arms and legs beginning to form.” 

She unfreezes the image and the tiny baby begins moving. “The baby is a wiggle worm. And the flickering there in the middle is the heart beating.”

She waves her wand and the heartbeat fills the room as she turns to make notes on her parchment. 

Harry is in complete awe that this tiny person is growing inside him. He steals another glance at Draco, who positively beams at him. 

“The baby looks good, but Mr Potter, you must try to rest more, and eat more. Your body will take from you to protect the baby, but if you don’t sustain your body, it can eventually cause the baby harm.” 

“I understand. I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll want you to start on an iron potion in addition to the nutrient potion. And if you feel faint again, or you actually pass out, you must go to St Mungo’s immediately.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Draco says. 

Healer Carr waves her wand and packs up her medical bag. 

“I will see you gentlemen next week. I’ll show myself out.”

“Thank you, Healer Carr.”

The Healer's footsteps descend the stairs and as soon as the Floo activates, Draco’s lips are on Harry’s and his hand is on his abdomen. 

“I love both of you so much.”

“We love you, too.”

* * *

“He’s stable now.”

“His level of dehydration is concerning.”

“Fetal scan appears normal.”

 _What is going on?_ Harry doesn’t recognise the voices he’s hearing. _Am I dreaming?_

“Is the baby okay?”

That’s Draco. The terrified tone of his voice makes Harry want to look at him, but he can’t. He can’t make his mouth form words. He’s trapped in the dark and can’t open his eyes.

Panic is beginning to set in. He tries to take inventory of his body. Nothing really hurts. There’s something cold and hard on his abdomen. Something is keeping his left hand warm. He feels…floaty. He can feel everything outside his body but not his body itself. 

“He’s come ‘round under the stasis. Are we ready to lift it?” 

“Slowly. Watch the monitoring charms. We can move the fetal stasis monitor for now.” 

Something moves the cold thing away from his abdomen. A soft incantation is spoken by an unknown voice, and Harry has the bizarre sensation of his body slowly taking on its own weight. The wash begins over his toes, and he’s never been so aware of his feet. The slow-motion wave takes what feels like several minutes to reach his abdomen, but with it comes the reassuring feeling of the hard mass between his hips. The baby is still there. _Thank Merlin_. 

When the sensation reaches his hands, he becomes aware that the thing keeping his left hand warm is another hand. _Can I move now?_ He squeezes the hand. Draco? It feels like Draco. 

“He squeezed my hand!”

It _is_ Draco. He still sounds so scared. _What happened to me?_

The strange sensation continues travelling up his body and with it, he becomes aware of his breathing and the sting of something in the crook of his right arm. 

The return of control reaches his lips. 

“Draco?” His voice sounds weak and hoarse to his own ears. 

“Yes, Harry. I’m right here, love.” Harry’s pretty sure Draco is crying. He wills the wave of sensation to move faster. _I need to open my eyes. I need to see that he’s okay._

And when it finally does, he squints into the bright lights that assault his regained vision until a figure obstructs the light. Draco. That platinum blond couldn’t belong to anyone else. 

When his face swims into focus, Harry can tell he’s been crying. His face is pinched with worry, but then there’s a spread of the slightest bit of relief. 

“Thank Merlin.”

“What happened?”

Harry takes in his surroundings. There are two people in Mediwizard robes and a man in Healer’s robes. He’s clearly in St Mungo’s

“You passed out. I went down to get you some tea, and I assume you went to the loo. I heard a crash and when I made it to our bedroom, you were unconscious halfway between our bed and the loo door. I brought you here. You’ve been out for several hours.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You probably won’t, Mr Potter.” Harry shifts his attention to the Healer. He can’t be a day under seventy. “I’m Healer Powell. I’m a male obstetrics specialist with the Male Pregnancy Clinic.”

“Is the baby okay?” He slides the hand not occupied by Draco’s over his abdomen. 

“Yes. The baby appears to be just fine.” Harry hears Draco release the same sigh of relief that he does. “You, on the other hand…Your partner tells me your nausea has been quite severe.”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to make myself eat more, but sometimes it just doesn’t stay put.” Harry makes a face. The amount of vomiting he has been doing is both astounding and disgusting. He’s even been retching when the anti-nausea potions should be helping. 

“I am not sure this is typical pregnancy-associated nausea. We found a few abnormalities in your scans that we’d like to follow up on. You’ll be here for a couple of days at any rate.” 

Harry scrutinises Healer Powell’s face. When he had been an Auror, he always insisted on discharge. He hates being monitored and poked and prodded. But now he has a baby to worry about.

“What do you think is wrong?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. Your magic is not within normal range, but I gather from Mr Malfoy that it never has been?”

“No, it hasn’t. It’s always been pretty high.” Harry’s been told, repeatedly, that he has abnormally high magic levels. “There are records with the Ministry Healers from when I was an Auror.”

“I’ll send for those. Has it always been a little wild, as well?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?” 

“Are you prone to bursts of accidental magic?”

“No, not since I was a child.”

“Magic reacting with more or less power than you intend?”

“No. I work with very intricate magical imaging and I’ve never had an issue.”

“Is your wand ever reluctant or temperamental? Perhaps when you’re tired?”

“I usually only use a wand at work, but no.”

“You don’t do magic at home?”

“I don’t use a wand for magic at home.”

The Healer’s eyebrows raise but he just scribbles more notes.

“We’re going to run some more tests over the next couple of days. You’re also going to get a constant dose of nutrients, iron, and anti-nausea medication along with fluids.” He gestures to Harry’s right arm, where a thin tube disappears into his skin. “Nothing appears severe or life-threatening, but given the strain on your body from the pregnancy, we want to be safe, not sorry.”

“Yes, please.” Draco’s face is pinched with worry. “I need them both to be all right.”

Harry looks at Draco and then sighs. He just wants to curl up in Draco’s arms, but there’s so much to worry about. Outside the security of Potter Cottage, he knows that his safety, as well as Draco’s, could be at risk.

“Healer Powell, my pregnancy isn’t public knowledge. Neither is our engagement. While I’m not concerned about the engagement becoming public, we haven’t told our kids I’m pregnant yet. I don’t want anyone letting that slip to the media.”

“We will ensure your privacy and safety.”

“You should probably call the Aurors for security. They’ll post a guard to ensure staff safety as well, in case someone gets wind of my admission.”

“I’ll do that when I call for your records.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Healer Powell moves quietly out of the room, followed by the Mediwizards, and then Draco’s lips are on Harry’s forehead.

“I’m so glad you’re all right. I was so scared I was going to lose you, or the baby, or _both_.” 

“We’re ok. We’ll figure this out.” Harry scoots to one side of the narrow hospital bed and turns on his side. “Lay with me?”

“I’m fairly certain the Mediwizard won’t allow it.”

“Would you want to be the Mediwizard that tells a pregnant Harry Potter he can’t have his fiancé in bed with him?”

“Fair point.” Draco chuckles and toes off his shoes to slide in next to Harry. “Now, rest. We’ll worry about the next steps after you get some sleep.” 

Harry settles against Draco’s chest and drifts off.

* * *

Two days later, the staff at St Mungo’s is no closer to figuring out what’s wrong, and Harry is losing patience. He’s nauseous and vomiting, even with intravenous potion drips. He’s completely exhausted from a trip to the loo. And he’s tired of being poked and prodded and tested with no productive outcome. 

Propped in bed with Draco in a chair next to him, he listens to Healer Powell running over his most recent test results. 

“…and then we did a full series of core imaging. It’s certainly not normal for a pregnant man, but it’s not something we’ve seen—“

“Let me see it.” Harry sits completely upright, voice harsh as he cuts off the Healer’s explanation. 

“Pardon?” Healer Powell looks blindsided. Harry sees Draco sit up in horror, obviously having caught on to Harry’s train of thought. 

“Harry, you don’t think…”

“I won’t know until they let me see the fucking imaging.” Harry turns back to the Healer. “I work with core imaging. Specifically, cores of people exposed to Dark Magic as children and the long-term effects.”

Healer Powell continues to look confused. Harry heaves an impatient sigh. If he’s right, the increased nausea and fatigue are signs his own core is not going to hold out much longer.

“Look. I’m part of a team studying the long-term effects of childhood Dark Magic exposure. One of our findings is spontaneous haemorrhage of the magical core when it’s under strain as an adult.” Harry watches Powell’s eyebrows raise into his hairline.

“You don’t even want to know how much Dark Magic I saw before seventeen,” Harry spits, wondering exactly how much malevolent magic might come from having a piece of a megalomaniac’s soul in your body for sixteen years, “so unless you want the Prophet running a front-page story about how Harry Potter _and_ his baby died in your ward and it could have been prevented, show me. The fucking. Imaging.”

With a silent nod, Healer Powell disappears from the room. Draco grips Harry’s hand as they wait, neither one able to form words to express their fears and needing no words to understand what the other is feeling.

Within five minutes, a Magiscope is being wheeled into the room. And sixty seconds later, Harry’s eyes are pressed against it and he’s viewing his own core. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Draco, can you get my wand?”

“Is it bad?” Draco hands over the requested wand. 

“Let’s just say I’ve seen similar imaging before,” Harry sighs. 

“Fuck,” is Draco’s only reply

Harry’s core is wrapped in strand after strand of malevolent magic, each twined around several others. It’s being held in check by his powerful benevolent core and Harry suspects if he had a less powerful core, he would already be dead. But that’s the thing with The Boy Who Lived: he has no intention of dying and leaving Draco behind. 

Wand working delicately, Harry untangles the benevolent magic from the image. It’s not the most complex he’s seen, fortunately. The tangle of malevolent magic, however…

Harry gestures to Healer Powell. “Now look.”

Healer Powell fails to withhold a gasp when he peers through the eyepiece. “What did you do?”

“Removed the benevolent magic from the imaging. It’s residual Dark Magic. It can’t do any harm under most circumstances, but if the core is strained, it moves in and causes haemorrhaging. I suspect if I had an average magical core, I’d have been dead already.”

Harry sees Draco turn absolutely ashen.

“I’m going to be fine, love. Can you go get Martin and Warren from the Curse-Breaking team next to my lab? And my blue notebook from my lab station. And some of your binding potion.”

“Will that be enough?”

“It should. We just need to put a plan together before things get worse.”

Draco kisses him, hard and quick. “I love you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I love you, too.”

Draco hurries into the hallway and Harry suspects he’ll be back in less than ten minutes with far more resources than he asked for. 

Harry closes his eyes and sinks back onto his bed. He’s not nearly as sure that he will be okay as he let Draco think. He knows the problem is fixable, but he also knows it’s experimental. And it’s never been done on a pregnant man.

“Healer Powell?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

“Yes, Mr Potter?”

“Would core strain or damage cause nausea and vomiting with excessive fatigue?”

“It would, if the strain was significant enough.”

“Would the magic necessary to support a male pregnancy and form the womb and canal be enough to cause that level of strain?”

“It would.”

“Fuck.”

“Who have you sent Mr Malfoy to get?”

“The two best Curse-Breakers at the Center for Rare Magical Maladies. As well as my notes on cases like this, and a core-binding potion that will allow them to bind my core to lift the curses.”

“Have you had successful trials?”

“In the lab, yes.”

“Is it safe in a pregnancy?”

“I don’t know. But if we don’t try, we’ll both die.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Draco?” Harry whispers.

“Yes?”

Draco pulls Harry closer. The staff at St Mungo’s had let them transfigure the hospital bed to be big enough for both of them. Tonight makes the seventh night they’ve spent in it, but this one is proving to be particularly sleepless.

“You’re awake, too?”

“I am.” 

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too.”

They’ve spent the last five days with the CRMM team and the St Mungo’s staff, putting together a plan to try to remove the malevolent magic from Harry’s core without harming him or the baby. There have been many hours in the simulation lab running through the procedure. Tomorrow — well, later this morning — they’re set to perform the procedure on Harry. 

“I know everything went flawlessly today with the simulations, but still.”

“I know. I’m going to be a nervous wreck while you’re out. I just want you both to be safe.”

“Draco, if something happens to me—“

“No, Harry. Don’t talk like that.” Draco’s voice is sharp.

Harry knows they’ve taken all possible precautions, but he’s done a lot of things _just in case_ ; Flooed the children to let them know he is having a procedure — though not exactly how serious — and to tell them he loves them one more time, _just in case_ ; hugged Hermione while they both cried and held on extra tight, _just in case_ ; owled his solicitor about some paperwork, _just in case_.

“Draco. I need to say this. This is experimental and we both know it.” Harry takes a deep breath. “If something happens to me, please take care of my kids. Custody, as well as the house and vaults, are already arranged. The paperwork is in the warded drawer in the desk in our study. Just in case.”

“We are raising all five of our children _together_.” The tremble in Draco’s voice betrays his confident words. 

“That’s the plan, but just in case.” Harry can hear the desperation in his own voice. He needs to know that his kids will be cared for, even if something does go wrong. 

“If something happens, I will take care of the kids. I promise.” Draco’s voice holds no room for doubt and Harry clings to that reassurance. 

“I really think everything will be fine, but I need that peace of mind.” 

“I wish we weren’t in the damned hospital. I have other things I’d like to do for my peace of mind.” Draco’s hand runs down Harry’s side. Harry, too, wishes they could make love one more time, just in case.

“We should be home in a couple of days. And I should finally not be nauseous.” 

“Yes. Home in a couple of days.”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Me, too.”

A few hours later, Harry is lying on a hard table, line in his arm slowly pumping medications to relax him. He’s already taken the core binding potion and not feeling his magic thrumming through his body is unsettling. He squeezes Draco’s hand.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll stay until you’re asleep, and I’ll be with you before they wake you up, ok?”

“Yes. I wish you didn’t have to go at all.”

Harry’s eyes begin to drift closed, and he feels Draco’s lips brush his own. 

“I love you, Harry.” 

“I love you, too, Draco.” Harry’s half-closed eyes fill with tears. He’s completely petrified that something will go wrong and this will be the last time he sees Draco. 

A hand lays on his abdomen.

“And I love you,” Draco whispers. 

Harry’s tears spill over.

“We’ll see you soon.” Harry’s eyes close, and he floats away.

* * *

“Harry.” Draco’s voice is soft in his ear. “Come on, wake up.”

“Is it over?” Harry whispers. He realises it must be. He can feel his magic again, so they’ve clearly administered the antidote. He opens his eyes to look into Draco’s relief-filled grey ones. A glance around reveals he’s back in his hospital room.

“It’s over. You did great. Everything went perfect.” There’s a strained joy in Draco’s voice, and Harry can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him to sit and wait for news. He reaches for his stomach.

“What about the baby?”

Draco’s smile says what Harry needs to know before he answers and relief floods him.

“They’re going to do some imaging as soon as you’ve come around properly, but preliminary scans look good.”

“We’re both okay?” Harry’s heart needs the clarification, just one more time. 

“You’re both okay. Better than okay. The malevolent magic was all contained and counter-cursed. Both your vitals stayed stable the whole time.” Draco’s hand smoothes Harry’s forehead and flattens his hair.

“Thank Merlin.” 

A medical cart rattles through the door with Healer Powell in tow. 

“Mr Potter, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good. I’m actually not nauseous. Still tired. And I’m awfully anxious to know the baby is all right.”

“We took another core imaging before we brought you ‘round. It looks good. Your core is awfully powerful, Mr Potter. I think it saved you both.”

“That’s a relief to hear. Though I’d still like to see it.”

“Of course. I’ll have it brought in when we’re done. But let’s have a look at your baby first.”

Draco drags a chair to the bedside with a loud scrape before sinking into it and taking Harry’s hand. 

“I’m incredibly relieved to have Harry back safely, but I will feel much better when I see for myself that our little one is okay, too.”

Healer Powell smiles. “I will, too, to be honest. Everything we’ve seen on the scans looks perfect, but it’s pretty unnerving putting a pregnant Harry Potter through an experimental magical core treatment.”

Harry settles himself flat and exposes his abdomen as Healer Powell conjures a bubble. The cold potion on his stomach sends shivers down his body, but his eyes are locked on that bubble, hand clinging tight to Draco’s. 

His womb appears in the bubble and his whole body goes limp as the last of his anxiety abates. There, bouncing around, is their baby. Tiny arms and legs are moving. Harry feels a bit ridiculous as tears fall, but when he pulls his eyes away from that beautiful image to look at Draco, he finds he’s not the only one crying. 

The whoosh of the baby's heartbeat fills the room, and Harry returns to staring at their baby.

“Would you like a couple of moving images?” Healer Powell asks softly, seeming hesitant to interrupt the moment.

“Could you?” Draco replies eagerly.

“Of course. One tiny silver lining of being in the hospital.” The Healer’s wand appears to siphon the image from the bubble and drops it onto photograph parchment. These, unlike others they’ve gotten, show the baby moving.

“Does everything look all right?” Draco inquires.

“Perfect for nearly 8 weeks. So good, in fact, I’m inclined to let you go home in the morning. My only stipulations are that we get you off the anti-nausea drip and you can eat and hold down food before then. 

Harry grins. “Deal.”

Healer Powell hands Draco a small stack of photographs before siphoning the potion off Harry’s stomach. 

“I’ll be around in the morning to check you over and hopefully send you packing. Someone will be in shortly to stop your anti-nausea and see how you do. Get some rest, both of you.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Home has never felt so wonderful.

Harry had remained mostly nausea-free and been able to eat, and by 6 a.m., Draco had been watching the hallway for any sign of Healer Powell. As soon as the discharge orders had been signed, they had been escorted to a private Apparition point, then Draco had gathered Harry close and Side-Alonged him home.

They land smoothly in the bedroom, but Harry finds himself still held close to Draco’s chest, feeling Draco’s breath in his hair. He wraps his arm around the blond and for long moments, they stand in silence, just clinging to each other.

When Draco finally pulls away, Harry’s a bit surprised to see his partner’s face tracked with tears. His inquiring look is met with a slightly embarrassed shrug.

“This…” Draco’s voice catches, and he has to clear his throat to continue. “This is where I found you on the floor. And there were several times this last week I didn’t know if I’d get to have you home again. And I knew I loved our child before this, but I didn’t realise just how much I wanted this baby until we almost lost it. I’m so relieved to have you both home safe.”

Harry’s own throat catches and instead of trying to form words, he simply kisses Draco. Slow and lazy, they drink each other in, both relieved to be home with their baby safe.

“I love you,” Harry whispers against his lips.

“I love you, too.”

Harry reluctantly pulls away.

“I want nothing more than to climb into bed with you, but I desperately need a real shower.”

“I could join you?”

“That sounds fabulous.”

Draco leads Harry by the hand into the en-suite, reaching in to start the shower, then turning his attention to Harry’s body. He slides Harry’s shirt over his head and lets it fall to the floor before reaching for his joggers and pants.

The soft fabric slides over Harry’s hips, then stops. 

“Oh!” Draco’s soft gasp of surprise makes Harry open the eyes that had fluttered shut. 

“Hmm?”

Draco’s hand reaches for his abdomen, lovingly running his hands across the slight protrusion that had really not been noticeable before today.

“You’re showing. You look pregnant.”

“I _am_ pregnant, you berk.”

“I know, wanker.” Draco laughs softly. “But now I can see it without the bubble.” He lays a soft kiss on Harry’s tiny bump as he slides the clothes the rest of the way off.

Draco divests himself of his own clothing, and they slip into the shower. Harry can’t help but moan at the warm spray down his back. 

Draco grins wryly at him. “I’d like to make you moan for other reasons.” His tone is light and teasing, but truthfully, now that he’s not nauseous, Harry wants nothing more than Draco’s cock buried in his arse.

“Merlin, yes, please. It’s been almost a month, Draco. Just because I was too sick for us to do anything, doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted it. I’ve missed you.”

“You mean you’ve missed my cock.”

“That, too.”

Draco sinks to his knees and wraps hands around Harry’s hips, turning him around to face the tiled wall. Harry rests his head against the tile as Draco nudges his legs further apart. His hands slide to the globes of Harry’s arse and squeeze just hard enough to make him jump.

“Nnnnngh.” Harry’s moan bounces off the tile as the firm press of Draco’s tongue traces a path from the back of his balls, past his hole and to his spine. “Fuck, Draco!”

Hands spread his arse wide, and Draco’s tongue moves in short, rough strokes around his entrance. Nonsense falls from Harry’s lips. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s been a month since Draco has touched him like this or heightened sensitivity from being pregnant, but every lap of Draco’s tongue sets his body on fire. He keens when short strokes are exchanged for long firm ones, coaxing his hole to open. 

Harry’s palms flatten against the wet shower walls, scrabbling for something to grip where nothing exists. Draco’s tongue presses past his entrance, and his hips involuntary thrust back, eager for more of that delicious sensation. _Damn_ , he’s missed this. Draco has taken brilliant care of him through everything, but there’s nothing that can take the place of _this_ between them. 

Draco’s tongue begins a steady rhythm of thrusts in and out of Harry, and a hand snakes around his hips to allow fingers to caress his rock-hard erection and tug at his balls. 

“More, Draco. _Please_.” 

Draco’s tongue is replaced with fingers as he carefully stretches Harry open. Hips press back, desperate for more, deeper, faster and the groan at finding himself suddenly empty is involuntary.

“Have you any idea how much I’ve missed seeing you like this?”

Harry hears movement behind him and then the slick blunt head of Draco’s cock is pressing at his entrance as hands steady his hips. The slow slide as he’s filled is burning, and pleasure, and like being whole again. 

When Draco is fully inside him, arms wrap around his waist and Draco’s mouth is next to his ear. 

“You feel fantastic. Are you all right?”

“Merlin, yes.”

Draco nips at his ear, then drags himself nearly out of Harry at an agonisingly slow pace.

“Holy shit, Draco. Don’t tease me.”

There’s a soft chuckle and Draco obliges, setting a steady rhythm. The meeting of wet skin and their hard-panting breaths mix with the sounds of the shower running over them. Harry knows he’s already terribly close to the edge but this — his gorgeous fiancé setting his whole body alight with pleasure and sensation — is what he wants. He presses back into Draco, one hand wrapping around his cock while the other braces against the wall. 

“Harder,” he urges Draco. “So close.”

Draco keens in response and tightens his grip on Harry’s hips. It would nearly be painful if it didn’t feel so good. Draco presses into him harder and faster. 

“Nnnngh. Yes. Like that. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t stop, and it only takes a single brush at just the right angle against Harry’s prostate for him to be spilling all over the shower wall. Draco moans against his back and his thrusts lose their rhythm as Harry pulses around him.

“Harry…” Draco’s moan sounds like a desperate plea, then he presses his cock deep into Harry’s arse and Harry feels himself being filled. 

They stand, spent, still entwined under the shower for long minutes. Harry makes an effort to memorise this feeling — Draco inside him, wrapped in strong arms, both of them radiating love and contentment.


	15. Chapter 15

“Have you given any more thought to how we want to tell the kids?” Draco’s hand rests protectively over Harry’s stomach while they lie tangled together on the couch.

“I don’t think we can wait until the Easter hols. Someone’s growing too fast.” Harry lays his hand on top of Draco’s. “I suppose we could ask Minerva to allow them home for a weekend.”

“That’s probably for the best. It might also help Al. He’s not going to be content until he sees you, especially since you’ve been in the hospital.”

“I think you’re right. He’s written to me four times in the three days I’ve been home.” Harry knows his son worries, but Al’s been particularly anxious over Harry recently. All the kids know right now is that Harry has been ill and admitted to St Mungo’s for a week. He can’t decide if it will be better or worse once Al knows he’s pregnant. “Next weekend, then?”

“I think so. Do you want to Floo the Headmistress?”

“I think it’s better if we write.” Harry knows Minerva will ask them through if he Floos, and he doesn’t want her to know he’s expecting before the children do. “Maybe we can see the kids back to the castle, and talk to her then.” 

“That should work. If we send Edgar off tonight, we should hear back by tomorrow.” Draco’s fingers trace patterns on Harry’s belly. “Provided they can come, I think we should tell them Friday night and give them the weekend to ask questions.”

“I think that’s best.” Harry knows all four kids will have questions he might not want to answer, but he knows he will anyway. “I also want them to have some time to process the news. They’ll have to stay quiet about it at school until we’re public, and they’re already sitting on our engagement.”

“About that…” Draco pauses. “I never really intended on that staying quiet.”

“Neither did I, but we didn’t even get forty-eight hours to enjoy being engaged before I started getting sick.” Harry regrets not getting to bask in the joy of Draco proposing. He especially regrets not getting to celebrate privately with Draco after the kids returned to Hogwarts. 

“Would you like to go out tonight and let ourselves be spotted? I honestly thought we’d be spotted on the platform taking the kids back, and if I’m about to go back to work, I’m certainly not hiding our engagement.”

“Dinner sounds lovely.” Harry is ready for their engagement to be public. He’s thrilled to be marrying Draco, and if people don’t like it, that’s on them. He’s not hiding his happiness for their benefit. And it’s much better that it be common knowledge before the public catches wind of his pregnancy. “What are your thoughts on me going back to work?”

“Do you want to go back?” Draco’s tone is carefully controlled, and Harry knows that means he’s not happy about the prospect. 

“I do. Kind of.” Harry pauses to gather his thoughts. “My work is important to me. And it’s literally what saved our baby’s life, and mine. It would have been impossible with the way I was feeling, but now I’m really only nauseous in the mornings.”

“But you’re still tired, Harry.”

“I am. But I’m not exhausted, not like I was.” Harry feels his temper bubbling, but he’s pretty sure it’s hormone-fuelled. It’s so frustrating not knowing what’s normal emotions and what’s pregnancy-related. “Healer Carr and Healer Powell both said I could work a light schedule.” 

Harry cringes at the timbre of his own voice. He sounds like a petulant child. 

“I know that, love. But you also never do anything lightly.” Draco sighs. “And it would be different if we needed the Galleons, but there’s enough gold between our vaults for us and all five kids to never need to work. And probably their kids, too, if we’re smart about it.”

“True.” Harry is reluctant to let this go, but he also knows Draco is right. He loves his work, but he doesn’t _need_ to work. He _needs_ to grow a healthy baby. 

“There’s a higher rate of miscarriage and complications in male pregnancies. I already almost lost you both once.” Draco snuggles him closer. “I’ve never been so scared in my life as when I kissed you and walked out of that procedure room, Harry. I want us to do everything we can to make sure the both of you stay healthy.”

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. There are retorts on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t bring himself to pick the fight. “I want to argue with you so badly, but I know you’re right.”

Draco’s laugh is somehow amused and exasperated all at once. “So you’ll stay home?”

“I will. My job isn’t worth risking our baby. We can talk about it again after the birth.” Harry knows his disappointment shows in his voice. He’ll miss his work. 

“I’ll see if they’ll let me brew at home while you’re pregnant. I can ward a lab in the cellar or in one of the guest rooms. Then I’ll only have to go in for meetings.”

Harry smiles. He knows that’s partially for his benefit so he won’t be lonely, and partially for Draco’s benefit, so he can see that Harry is okay. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” Draco shifts the subject gently, sensing correctly that Harry would rather not dwell on the job situation. “We should probably try to Floo for a table.” 

“Where can we let slip that we’re celebrating our engagement and know they’ll leak to the press? I don’t want to have to make a statement, but a strategic leak would be helpful in this case.”

“Someplace upscale, then.” Draco sighs contemptuously. “You’d think wealthy people have more to do than gossip, but they can never get enough of it.”

“ _Lumos_ , then?”

“That should do it.” Draco is clearly not thrilled with where they’re going, even if they both know it’s a good choice for the disruption. For all his appreciation of the finer things in life, Draco despises the wealthy culture he was raised in. “At least their food is good.”

“I can Floo for a reservation. They always seem to have a table for me.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Then we can write Minerva before we go.”

“We should probably let the kids know we’re letting it slip tonight, too. It’ll hit the Prophet in the morning, and nobody needs that as an unexpected Sunday treat.”

* * *

Draco relieves the owl of its paper and hands it over to Harry before joining him back in bed. The Sunday morning Prophet does not disappoint. Under the headline “Potter and Malfoy to Wed!” is a full-colour picture of them exiting _Lumos_ arm in arm. 

“The headline is better than it could be, I suppose. At least it’s not ‘Saviour to Wed Death Eater’s Son,” Draco quips. 

“Draco!” Harry is torn between amusement and horror as he studies the paper. The press has usually treated Draco fairly and on his own merits in the last few years, but when their relationship had first become public, there had been some less-than-kind headlines.

He eyes the picture critically. They’d ended up in robes for dinner when Harry discovered that none of his nice trousers would button comfortably anymore. Draco looks fabulous in his deep plum robes, but he’s more worried about his own midsection.

“Do you think I look pregnant?”

Draco leans over and studies the paper. 

“In the photograph? No.” Draco runs his eyes down the length of Harry’s body, sitting up against the headboard. “Right now, yes.” 

“I’m going to need new clothes.” Harry rests a hand on his belly. “I’m getting fat.”

“You’re growing a baby, Harry. It’s not fat.” Draco shakes his head. “Once the kids know, we can call a tailor.”

As if on cue, an owl taps at the bedroom window. Harry lifts himself from the bed and retrieves the scroll, seeing the Hogwarts crest as he unfurls it.

*

_Harry and Draco,_

_The children may use my Floo when classes conclude Friday afternoon. I shall look forward to seeing you when you return them to the castle on Sunday afternoon._

_I hope you both are well._

_Minerva_

*

“She’s fine with the kids coming Friday.” 

Draco takes the letter from Harry, scanning it before setting it aside.

“We can write and let them know today, I suppose.” 

“I was actually thinking we might wait until Wednesday,” Harry suggests, and Draco gives him an odd look. “It would give Al less time to be a total mess of worry.”

“Ah,” Draco nods, “that makes sense. If you tell Al today, he’ll be a complete disaster by Friday. Scorpius may strangle us both if we leave him to deal with a worked up Albus that long.”

“Exactly.” Harry doesn’t want to cause any of the children any unnecessary distress, but he admittedly does worry about Al more than the other three in that regard. “How do you think they’ll take the news?”

“Scorpius always wanted a sibling growing up. I’m hoping he will be excited once he wraps his head around it.” Draco pauses thoughtfully. “I think Lily will be quite excited.”

“I would agree. Al will be overly anxious, I’m sure.” Harry hesitates, then decides to voice his fear. “I’m worried about James.”

“James? Really?”

“First off, we know he’s a carrier, and he’s in his first serious relationship. I’m pretty sure he and Matthew are going to be having penetrative sex soon if they aren’t already. He’s going to find out his dad is unintentionally pregnant. Teenage boys don’t usually have to worry about getting pregnant. I want to make sure he knows how to prevent pregnancy until he’s ready.” Harry shakes his head. “He’s also gay and about to find out way more about his father’s bedroom preferences with men than he probably wants to know.”

“Oh hell,” Draco mutters. “I hadn’t considered that.” 

Harry smirks briefly and then sobers. “We probably need to make some time for James to be alone with us before they go back. He may have questions he’s not comfortable asking in front of the others.” 

“We’ll make time for what any of our children need this weekend. I do hope, in the end, they’ll all be okay with gaining a new sibling. If they’re as happy as we are, it will be an added bonus.” Draco kisses Harry gently. “I know getting the kids to come around may be a challenge, but having a baby with the man I love is worth every bit of it.”

* * *

Harry can’t decide if he’s exceptionally nauseous Friday because of the baby or because he’s nervous about telling the kids that, after nearly twelve years, they’re getting a sibling. Regardless of the source of his stomach’s unease, Draco is taking his own anxiety out by hovering and inquiring constantly about Harry’s well-being. It’s about to drive him completely spare at this point, so he’s sent Draco to the pantry to hunt the pasta just to give him something to do. He sets aside the ingredients he’s been preparing for dinner.

“Love?” Harry calls in the general direction of the pantry.

“Are you all right?” Draco appears nearly instantly at the door.

“I’m fine.” Harry can’t help but smile and roll his eyes. “But would you spell the knife to cut the onions for me? I’m afraid the smell would do me in if I was in the room.”

“Of course.” Draco sets the pasta on the counter and retrieves his wand from the kitchen table. “Why don’t you go have a shower, and I’ll join you when these are done and under a stasis? We have less than an hour before the kids will be home.”

“That sounds perfect.” Harry kisses Draco quickly and heads for the stairs. 

He’s just stepped under the spray when he hears Draco open the bathroom door. A rustle of clothes later, and Draco slips in with him. 

“Still feeling all right?”

“Draco.” There comes a point where this question is no longer cute. Harry has reached that point. “If I start to feel worse, I will tell you. I promise.”

“I know.” Draco reaches for the shampoo. “I’m just nervous.”

“I am, too. I think that’s why I feel off today. Healer Carr said everything looked great yesterday.” Harry is reassuring himself as much as he’s reassuring Draco.

“That’s true.” Draco grips Harry’s hips and turns him so they’re face to face, leaning in for a kiss. Harry lets his eyes drift shut and enjoys the butterflies he still gets, even now, when Draco’s lips touch his.

Harry resists his desire to deepen the kiss. The kids will be arriving in about half an hour, and that doesn’t leave enough time for even a quick shag. Draco apparently feels no such hindrance and Harry has to ease away gently. 

“The kids will be here soon. Later. We’ll silence the room once the kids are in bed.”

Draco grumbles but acquiesces. “I know you’re right but my cock doesn’t share the sentiment.”

Harry kisses Draco gently. “I’m sorry. But we really do need to shower and get on with it.”

* * *

Clad in his towel, Harry finds himself sighing in front of his wardrobe. 

“What’s the matter?” Draco is already dressed and perched on the dressing bench, tugging on his socks. 

“Nothing but my joggers fit. I can’t button anything. I tried these on—“ he holds up a pair of denims “—last weekend to make sure I had something for tonight, and now they don’t close.”

“You’re bigger than you were a week ago, love.” Harry knows Draco thoroughly enjoys watching his tiny pregnant belly grow. “I can use a basic tailoring charm on the waistband to let them out just a little. Are they _close_ to buttoning?”

“Yeah, pretty close.” Harry passes his trousers to Draco and pulls on some pants. Turning to the mirror, he runs his hands down his torso. He hadn’t expected to be struggling to fit into his clothes at just over nine weeks. He still has 29 more to go! 

“Try now and see if that was enough.” Draco returns the denims and Harry slides them on. They button successfully and he sighs in relief before making the mistake of looking in the mirror again. “I still look pregnant.”

“You look pregnant because you _are_ pregnant.” Draco sighs, clearly growing weary of repeating this. “Choose a looser fitting jumper and it will hide it long enough to tell the kids. Then it’s not a worry for the rest of the weekend. There are some in the bottom of my wardrobe if you need one.” 

Harry’s tugging an oversized green hoodie — Draco’s old quidditch hoodie to be precise — on over his t-shirt when the Floo chimes. He stares, wide-eyed, at Draco who looks equally panicked. 

“Fuck.” Draco voices what both of them are thinking. 

“That exactly.” Silence stretches between them as they hear the fireplace come to life. 

“All right, let’s do this. It’ll all be out in the open in a couple of hours.” Draco kisses him quickly and they head for the stairs. A firm arm slips around Harry’s waist and he smiles at Draco’s protective behaviour. Any time he can offer support or a little extra safety, he always does.

Four pairs of eyes are staring at them as they reach the living room.

“What’s wrong?” Albus blurts before they can even say hello. He looks positively freaked out.

“Nothing is _wrong_ , Al.” Harry tries to paste on his most reassuring smile, despite feeling nauseous all over again.

“Then why are we here?” Scorpius also looks concerned and more than a little confused.

“We have some things to talk about. But nothing is wrong.” Draco’s voice is steadier than Harry’s at least, and Harry is thankful for the arm still wrapped tightly around his waist. “Why don’t you go put your things in your rooms and we’ll finish up dinner. We can talk while we eat.”

Silence is a strange look on his children, Harry decides as they shoulder their bags and head up the stairs. He turns to Draco and buries his head in the blond’s neck.

“This is not going to go well,” he murmurs into Draco’s skin.

“It’ll be fine once it’s all out there.” Draco rubs his back.

“You’re full of shite, you know.”

“Yep.” Draco cracks a smile. “Let’s go work on dinner.”

Draco is pulling out vegetables for the salad and Harry is lighting the hob to boil water when footsteps come timidly down the stairs.

“Dad?” Scorpius sounds hesitant.

“Yes, son?” Draco answers.

“Al’s crying — like, really crying — in his room. He wouldn’t let me in.” 

Draco looks at Harry who turns off the burner and sighs. 

“Thanks, Scorp. We’ll be right up. Go finish putting your things away.” Harry shakes his head as footsteps ascend the stairs. 

“This isn’t going to go anything like we planned, is it?” Draco exhales heavily. 

“Not in the least.” Harry turns and takes Draco’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can’t get Al to calm down.”

Upstairs, Harry knocks lightly on Al’s bedroom door. “Al? Can we come in?”

“Yeah.” Al’s voice is strained. Harry opens the door to find his son sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, eyes red and face streaked with tears.

“Albus!” Harry sinks into the bed and gathers Al in his arms, feeling Draco settle beside him. “What in Merlin’s name is the matter?” 

Al is hiccupping and sobbing all over again.

“Are you going to die?”

“What?! No, Al, I am _not_ going to die. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been sick.” Al seems to think this is a perfectly valid argument for his father dying.

“Yes, I have. But I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t look like you feel well. You’re pale. You’ve been in the hospital. Draco hasn’t let go of you since we got home. Something is wrong.”

Harry sighs and turns his head to Draco. 

“Go get the other three. We might as well do this now,” Harry says softly. Draco nods and stands.

“So something _is_ wrong?” The terror in Al’s voice rips at Harry’s heart. Harry makes a mental note to talk to Draco about finding a Mind Healer for Albus. His anxiety is getting worse, not better, and Harry loathes to think his son feels like this all the time. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Harry says calmly, rubbing Al’s back. “We’ll talk about what’s going on as soon as everyone is in here, okay?”

There’s shuffling at the door, and Draco is ushering the other three kids into the room. 

“Have a seat.” Harry gestures to the bed. “We’re going to go ahead and have this conversation now.”

Fitting six bodies on Al’s bed is a tight squeeze, but after some shuffling, they’re all arranged comfortably. 

“What’s up, Dad?” James looks quite curious.

“Yeah, why did we need to come home?” Lily asks, face more sombre than normal. 

“Ok. Everyone’s here. Answer my questions.” Albus’ voice is insistent and desperate. ”If you’re not dying, what’s going on? Are you still ill?”

“Albus,” Harry sighs and takes Draco’s hand. “Yes, I’m still ill—”

“So what’s—“

“Albus! Let me finish,” Harry sighs. He has no idea what scenarios are playing out in Al’s head, but he’s certain they’re all catastrophic. “I’m still ill, but I’ve been seeing a Healer, and I will be fine eventually, but—”

“When?!?” Al demands. 

“Fuck’s sake, Al! Let your dad talk!” Scorpius is clearly fed up with Anxious Albus. James and Lily are both rolling their eyes, so clearly this has been going on for a while. Harry can only imagine how bad he was at school before they headed home. 

“I’ll be fine in about another six and a half months.” Harry can’t help but smile at Draco, anticipating the baby that will arrive then. 

“That’s a long time, Dad!” Al is clearly distraught at this timeframe. Harry takes a breath to explain but—

“Merlin’s wrinkly ballsack!” James cries, eyes immediately the size of saucers. _Well, James has figured it out_. He glances at the other three kids, noting Scorpius’ gobsmacked expression. _And so has Scorp._

“Why so long, dad?” Lily finally pipes up. Harry reaches for her hand with his free one and squeezes it gently.

“I’m pregnant, Lil. Draco and I are having a baby.”

Dead silence.

“You can ask questions,” Draco prompts softly. “Anything you want to know.”

“Did you plan this?” James is the first to find his voice. Judging by his expression, he’s not at all sure how to feel about this situation. 

“No. Your dad didn’t even know he was a carrier. We were just as surprised as you.” Draco’s voice is gentle but resolute. “But we’re very happy about it.”

“So are you getting married sooner then?” Lily is all smiles. Harry figured his little girl would be excited about a baby.

“We haven’t really decided.” He smiles at his fiancé. “Draco and I will be together for the long run no matter when we get married. We’ll figure out what’s right for all of us.”

“Well, I think you should get married soon.” Lily's authoritative air means she clearly finds this to be important.

Draco laughs softly. “We’ll keep that in mind, Lil.”

“Harry’s really pregnant?” Scorpius’ face is schooled into a carefully neutral expression. Harry’s come to learn this means he hasn’t decided how he feels, yet. 

“I am. We have imaging photos to show you if you’d like to see.” Harry smiles at Scorpius before turning his attention to Al.

“Albus? What do you want to know?” 

Al looks up from picking at his duvet and his bright green eyes lock onto Harry’s.

“Are you going to die like mum?”

“Oh, Al…” Harry is almost impressed at his son’s ability to find a potential crisis anywhere. “No. No, I’m not. We did have a bit of a scare a couple of weeks ago, that’s why I was in St Mungo’s. But we pinpointed the issue and it’s been taken care of. Everything has looked great since then. I’m not going to haemorrhage like your mum. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me until I’m old and grey.” 

“Then why are you still ill?” Al is not yet convinced, that much is clear.

“That’s quite normal during pregnancy, Al.” Harry tries to sound as reassuring as possible. “Exhaustion and vomiting are pretty much par for the course for the first 15 weeks or so, especially in male pregnancy. I’ve had a good deal of both.”

“So much vomiting,” Draco mutters.

He watches as Albus processes this information and relief washes over him as Al cracks a tiny smile.

“Merlin, I’m glad I’m straight.”

James' face is pale, but he leans forward to smack his brother upside the head. "So's every gay man at Hogwarts."


	16. Chapter 16

The planned dinner has been abandoned in favour of takeaway from their favourite Chinese restaurant, and the six of them are stretched out in the living room in front of the telly, finally eating a late dinner. The kids are all absorbing and processing the news at different rates, but Harry and Draco have been diligent in encouraging them to ask questions and take their own time to think things over. Albus, at least, finally seems convinced that Harry is not actively dying.

Harry huffs and pushes up from where he’s lounging against Draco.

“You okay?” The blond asks softly. 

“I’m roasting,” he whinges, peeling off Draco’s hoodie, dropping it to the floor and settling back against his fiancé. A pale hand automatically wraps around him to cover his bump. 

They both startle at Scorpius’ gasp. 

“Scorp?” Harry questions.

“I didn’t expect you to _look_ pregnant yet, but I can already see a little.” 

“The Healer said he’s so skinny there’s nowhere for the baby to hide,” Draco explains. “And he’ll be much bigger before this is over.” 

“Thanks, love,” Harry grumbles. 

“Can I see?” Lily scrambles over to her father. 

Harry laughs softly and lifts his shirt. “Give me your hand, Lil. You can feel where the baby is sitting.”

Lily extends her hand and Harry places it low on the small swell of his abdomen. “Okay, press down lightly.” He feels her push softly.

“Feel that hard ball?”

She nods. 

“That’s where the baby is.”

“Wow!” She’s never spent much time around a pregnant person, so Harry supposes she’s probably fascinated. He certainly was when Ginny was expecting James. Harry looks to his oldest son, who is staring into space and not eating the food in front of him.

“James?” Harry keeps his voice soft. James turns to look at him and Harry can see that he’s quite unsettled. “Are you all right?”

Harry can visibly see James gather his courage. 

“Can I talk to you?” He pauses. “And Draco? Alone?”

“Absolutely. Come up to our room and we’ll talk.” He feels Draco shift behind him so they can both stand. “Will you three put away the leftovers when you’re done?” he asks the younger children.

“Sure, Dad,” Al nods.

“Thanks, Son.” Harry turns to follow James and Draco up the stairs. 

Once upstairs with all three of them settled on the bed, Harry takes a deep breath. He’s committed to an open and honest discussion with his kids, but he’s pretty sure this is going to be a very personal discussion with James, and it’s not going to be comfortable, however necessary it may be.

“What’s on your mind, James?” Draco dives in. 

James heaves a big sigh.

“You didn’t mean to get pregnant.”

“No, we didn’t,” Harry confirms and waits for what feels like a lifetime before James speaks up again.

“We know I can carry.”

“Yes. You and Al both can, actually.”

“It really only matters for me, though. Al’s not likely to have a cock in his arse, is he?”

Harry is slightly taken aback by James’ choice of words but can’t help being amused at Draco’s gasp. He’d warned his fiancé that his kids were incredibly blunt about sex, and James had certainly driven that point home.

“Well, no, he’s not.” Harry decides to take the leap. “Are you?”

The amount of fidgeting James is managing to do with just his hands is really quite impressive. 

“James.” Draco’s voice is gentle and encouraging, even if Harry can hear the nervousness in his tone. “Just say it. Everyone in this room has a preference for men, even if one of them is your dad. We’re not going to judge you. We want to help.”

“Matthew and I aren’t having sex. Yet.” James’s cheeks flush red. “But we’ve done some other things. And I’ve been pretty sure for a while that I’ll want to bottom, but now I’m scared I’ll end up like Dad.”

“Wow, James.” Harry blinks to clear his head. _Is any parent ever really ready to know their child is thinking about having sex?_ “That’s a lot to unpack all at once.”

“Let’s start here,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Are you comfortable telling us what you and Matthew _have_ done?”

James nods slowly, staring intently at the bed instead of looking at either adult. “We’ve kissed. Handjobs. Blowjobs. And he’s put fingers in me.”

Harry’s actually a little relieved. He honestly figured it had been more by this point, but he still wants to make sure that James is remembering what he’s been told before, regarding comfort and consent.

“Were you comfortable with everything you’ve done?”

“Yes.” James’ response is firm and without hesitation, and Harry feels immense relief that James is not feeling pressured. Granted, his own first experiences with men were under different circumstances, but no one had told him he could say no or change his mind, and he’d done things he really hadn’t wanted to do. He doesn’t want James in that kind of situation, and he doesn’t want him to put a partner in that situation.

“And was Matthew?”

“Yes,” James nods.

“I know we’ve talked about consent, but I want to make sure you understand you do not have to consent to anything you’re not comfortable with. And you’re never to pressure Matthew to consent if he’s not comfortable.”

“I wouldn’t do that to him, Dad.”

“I know, son, but it’s important that you truly understand. And especially if you’re thinking about going further, it’s important that you remember that if either of you _do_ consent to something, you are allowed to change your mind at _any_ time.”

“I know.”

“I would prefer that you wait until you’re older and in a committed relationship, but I’m also not going to tell you that you can’t have sex. That being said, if you’re not completely sure you’re both ready, you’ll need to wait.”

“We’re not ready yet, I know that. We talk about it.”

Harry is quite relieved to know this. He has always encouraged his kids to have an open dialogue with their partners in a relationship, but he knows kids don’t always listen. Plus, it’s not the easiest conversation to initiate as an adult. It’s probably mortifying as a teen.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“It was kind of embarrassing at first, but now it’s nice to be able to talk about it and not have to guess what he’s thinking.”

“That’s the goal.” Harry smiles. Maybe he _is_ doing part of this parenting thing right.

“You both know basic protection charms, right?” Draco knows they do; Harry told him, but he figures Draco is using it as a good entry point for contraception.

“Yes. And we use them every time.”

“Good.” Harry is extremely relieved. He knows James and Matthew are the first serious relationship for each other, but it’s a good habit to develop. “None of those prevent pregnancy, though.”

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“There’s a couple of options,” Draco explains. “There’s no wizard’s contraception potion like there is for witches, but there is a male contraception spell. There’s also Muggle condoms. Neither is one-hundred percent effective, though.”

“Can I use both?”

“You can,” Draco confirms.

“How do I do the contraception spell?”

Harry is not looking forward to this part. He stretches out a hand and silently summons one of the many books on male fertility and pregnancy Hermione had found for him.

“The process for the spell is a little invasive.” Harry opens to a marked page that has line drawings of what’s necessary and turns the book to James. “You or your partner will insert the tip of your wand and twist gently anticlockwise. The incantation is _Et a Conceptu_. Done properly, you should feel it wash through you. It makes your body a hostile environment for conception. It lasts for about four hours.” 

“You have to sanitise your wand before and after,” Draco adds. “There’s a potion specifically to do that. It can be store-bought, but I can brew you some.”

“You’d do that?” James looks genuinely surprised. 

“Of course, I would.” Draco sounds a little wounded. This co-parenting a blended family is going to be an interesting journey. “Your safety is important to me, James.”

“What about condoms?”

“We’ve gone over how to use those,” Harry reminds him.

“I mean, will you get some for me?”

“Of course,” Harry sighs. _This does not get easier. Or less awkward._ “James, just because I’d rather you not be having sex doesn’t mean I’m going to forbid it or pretend it’s not going to happen. I’d rather you have everything you need to be smart and safe.”

“You do have to understand that neither of these methods is perfect.” Draco is emphatic. “You still run the risk of getting pregnant if you’re having penetrative sex.”

“What happens if I do?”

“Get pregnant?” Draco clarifies.

James nods.

“Then Draco and I will support you and your partner through making some difficult decisions.” Harry knows he will always support their kids, all five of them, but thinking about James getting pregnant makes his gut twist. “But I would really rather not end up there.”

“Me either!” James’ eyes are wide. “Dad, I don’t want to have a baby. Not for a long time. I guess I just sort of…pretended it couldn’t happen, but then you’re pregnant and…”

“I’m your own personal cautionary tale,” Harry laughs. He and Draco are adults and in a committed relationship — they are thrilled to be having a baby — but if the circumstances can keep his son from ending up pregnant too young, that’s an added bonus.

“Yeah, basically.”

“Contraception aside, do you have any other questions?” Draco asks.

“Yeah…” James goes back to his Tri-Wizard level hand-fidgeting.

“Go on then,” Harry encourages.

“Does it hurt?” James is staring resolutely at a spot on the comforter.

“Does what hurt, exactly?” Harry needs some clarification.

“Sex.”

_Oh. That._

“Done properly, no, sex does not hurt.” Draco seems he’s not sure if he should be reassuring James or issuing warnings. “It’s meant to feel good, James.”

“Even if you bottom?” James darts an embarrassed look at Harry.

“Yes.” Harry knows his first time bottoming was horribly painful, but he knows now, it never should have been that way. He would prefer James be spared that particular experience. “Both partners should be enjoying it.”

“It’s going to be awkward the first couple of times.” Draco’s eyes dance despite his serious tone and Harry wonders if he’s remembering their first time. “It might be uncomfortable until you get the mechanics right. It might also burn when you’re getting used to being stretched. But it shouldn’t hurt.”

“How do we make sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Lube,” Draco and Harry reply simultaneously, making James laugh. 

“Besides lube?”

“You can also do plenty of things beforehand. We talked about fingers for stretching when we talked about sex before.” Harry waits for James to nod in acknowledgement. “You can also use toys specially made for anal penetration.” James looks mortified at the mention of penetration. _Fuck, this is weird_. “There’s a wide variety that can be used alone or with a partner. Using a mix of fingers and toys before you move on can help.” 

Harry summons another book and is once again thankful for Hermione. “Here. This book goes over an awful lot, but I’d like for you to do some reading.” James looks down at _The Gay Wizard’s Guide to Two Wands: A Magical Guide for Gay Teens_ and Harry sees his lips quirk at the title. “You can read it this weekend, then you can leave it here or take it back to Hogwarts. But read over the section about using toys alone or with a partner. If there’s something you want, we’ll get what you need.”

“You will?” James sounds flabbergasted. 

“Yes,” Draco answers confidently. “I’ll brew wand-sanitiser and a high-quality lube for you this weekend. And your dad and I will make sure you have condoms before you go back. You’ll have to let us know what else you need.”

“I’d rather we get you what you want and need so we know it’s from somewhere reputable and safe, James,” Harry explains carefully. “Or at the very least, help you buy things your first few times so you can learn. I don’t need to know what you do with them and when. I’m _not_ going to ask unprompted questions about your sex life with Matthew. If you want to talk to me or Draco about it, that’s fine, but we won’t pry. We’ll always ask if you’re comfortable discussing something.”

Harry pauses. He doesn’t like acknowledging the fact that his eldest son will probably be having sex at sixteen. He’s also not delusional enough to think a teenage boy with a steady boyfriend will put off having sex until graduation or engagement or marriage. _This conversation is necessary_ , he reminds himself.

“I’m not encouraging you to have sex. I’d prefer you wait. There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with the consequences of sex. But I wasn’t much older than you when I started having sex, so I’m not going to pretend it’s not happening. I _do_ want to know you have what you need to be safe and enjoy sex if you're going to do it, and I _do_ want you to come to us with any questions. We will always be open with you.”

James nods in understanding.

“Any other questions?” Draco prompts.

“Yeah.” James looks at Harry’s stomach and then back to his face. “How does it feel to be pregnant?”

“Well, so far, it’s been a bit miserable.” Harry opts for brutal honesty. The physical part of this pregnancy has actually sucked. “I’ve been pretty sick, James. Lots of nausea and throwing up, and I’ve been really tired. But seeing the baby in the imaging bubble is amazing, and knowing that I’m having a baby with someone I love is very exciting.”

“Can you feel it moving yet?” 

“I can feel where my womb is. It feels like someone’s put a very heavy and hard ball in my abdomen. But I can’t feel any movement yet. Probably in the next month, though.” Harry smiles in anticipation of feeling their child move.

“Do you think you’ll want to carry someday?” Draco asks carefully.

“Yeah, someday. Matthew and I were talking, and he said that was one of the hardest parts of coming to terms with his sexuality. He realised he couldn’t have biological kids with his partner because he’s gay. Not a lot of wizards can carry and not many of the ones who can are gay. I’m lucky. I can have a family with my partner, and I want that someday.” 

Harry nods. “Let’s have you out of Hogwarts and with a serious partner first, yeah?”

James cracks a smile. “I do think that serious partner might be Matthew, Dad. We’ve been friends since first year and things have been great between us since he decided to come out at school.”

“I would be quite pleased if it was Matthew. He’s a wonderful young man. But I’d still rather not be a grandfather before you graduate.”

“Fuck, no!” James shakes his head and gathers the books in his lap. “Is it all right if I take these to my room?”

“Absolutely,” Draco says. “Come talk to us when you’re ready, ok?”

James nods and climbs off the bed, books in hand. As soon as the door shuts behind him, Draco and Harry both sag.

“Is it always that intensely awkward?” Draco asks.

“Hasn’t it been awkward when you’ve talked with Scorp?”

“Well, yes, but you’re incredibly open with your kids about everything. I somehow expected it to be…less internally agonising.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t go away.” Harry starts to laugh but yawns instead. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted. I can’t even explain to you how worn out I am.”

“Why don’t you get settled, and I’ll go herd the other three towards bed?”

“That would be wonderful.” 

“I’ll be back in a few.” 

Draco kisses him softly, shutting the door behind himself, and Harry hauls himself off the bed to undress. He shucks his clothing, save for his pants, and turns sideways to the mirror again. 

To most people, it would probably just look like he’s had a few too many pints, but the protrusion of his belly, though slight, is clearly there. He lays both hands over the place where their baby is growing and smiles. 

He’s never pictured himself carrying a child, but, he supposes, perhaps _something good_ takes on an unexpected form sometimes. After all, Harry Potter engaged to Draco Malfoy, deeply in love and pregnant, was completely unthinkable a year ago. 

He slides back into bed and picks up his book, _What to Expect for the Expectant Wizard,_ and begins to read. 

He realises he’s through three chapters with no sign of Draco. Deciding he probably shouldn’t leave Draco to the wolves that are their inquisitive children, he sets his book aside and throws back the blankets. 

Just as he’s about to push himself out of bed, the door swings open. Draco, looking just a bit traumatised, closes the door and leans against it. 

“Everything okay?”

“Just a rough conversation with Scorp. He’s having a bit of a hard time wrapping his brain around this. It’s come as three pretty quick big events for him, and he’s never had to grapple with me even dating before.”

Harry frowns. Scorpius had seemed fairly reserved earlier and is apparently still struggling. “Is he all right?”

“Mostly. And I think he’ll be fine. It’s just a lot for him to wrap his brain around. Unfortunately, he’s also got Albus in his ear whispering about how everything is going to turn out as a worst-case scenario.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, “I was wanting to talk to you about that. I think we might need to find Al a Mind Healer. His anxiety is getting worse, and I think we’re at the point where he may need a potion. It’s not fair for him to be that upset all the time.”

“I was going to say the same thing. Worrying is one thing, but Al is miserable because that’s all he can do.”

“I’ll talk with him tomorrow, and we can try to set something up for him either at Hogwarts or starting over Easter.”

Harry watches as Draco strips off his clothes and joins him in the bed. He snuggles into Draco’s side as an arm comes around him.

“The kids know.” Draco sounds relieved.

“The kids know,” Harry echoes. “I really do feel better now.”

“Me, too.” Draco kisses the top of Harry’s head. “I love you. Let’s get some sleep.”


	17. Chapter 17

If Harry thought he was tired Friday, he was completely mistaken. By lunch on Sunday, Friday looks positively energetic. He chalks it up to a very emotionally taxing weekend and, unfortunately, it’s not over yet. He looks at Albus who is settled at the end of Harry and Draco’s bed while Harry leans against the headboard. Talking to Al about his anxiety almost always ends up with an emotional outburst.

“Al, I want to talk to you about your worrying.” 

He braces himself for the reply. Al, as anticipated, immediately springs to being defensive. 

“I can’t help it, Dad!” 

“I know you can’t. But don’t you think it’s gotten worse lately?”

“Yeah,” Al says with a reluctant sigh.

“Are you okay with the way you feel?”

“No, I hate it. But nothing I do makes it change. I can’t just make myself worry less.”

“Okay.” Harry gives Al a reassuring smile. “I think we need to find something to help you so it can change.”

“Like what?”

“We can find a Mind Healer for you that specialises in Anxiety. They can figure out if there’s a chemical imbalance in your brain that is making this worse. There are potions you can take to fix the balance, and they can help you figure out how to cope when it gets bad.”

“I don’t want people to know.”

“No one has to, except me, Draco, and your Mind Healer. Possibly the Headmistress if your Mind Healer treats you while at Hogwarts. You can choose who to tell and when to tell them.”

“Even James and Scorp and Lil?”

“Even them. I think they’ll be very supportive if you do tell them. But you can choose if and when you want to let them know.”

Albus heaves a deep sigh. “Okay.”

“Draco and I will find someone reputable and discreet for you. Do you want to wait until Easter break to start seeing someone, or would you like us to arrange for you to see them privately while you’re at school?”

“At school is fine as long as nobody else knows.”

“Okay. We’ll work on that. I love you, Albus. I don’t want you to feel like this all the time.”

“I don’t want to feel this way either.”

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Are you really going to be okay? You and the baby?”

“We are doing everything we can to make sure the baby and I are both okay. I see my Healer every week, and I’m getting regular exams and testing. Draco takes good care of me.”

“I know he does.” Al hesitates. “Will you tell me if something is wrong?”

“If there’s something worth worrying about, I will make sure you know. But I’m still probably going to be ill for a while. It’s normal, and it’s not dangerous. And you’ll be home for the last couple of months before the baby comes, so you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Harry reaches out and squeezes Al’s hand. “Go on, then. Get your things together. We’ll be heading back to the castle soon.”

Al heads for the door and meets Draco on the way out. Draco is carrying two good-size stoppered bottles of potion, which he sets on the dresser. 

“Is that the sanitiser and lube, then?”

“It is. I made a larger batch of both, but James doesn’t need a huge supply at school, so I bottled these for him to take. Do you have the box ready?”

Harry scoots off the bed and retrieves the shoebox-sized wooden box from his wardrobe. In it are the toys and condoms James has requested. He sets the box on the dresser so Draco can add the potions before poking his head into the hallway and calling for James.

“Yeah, Dad?” James’ head pops out of his bedroom. 

“Come on in here and shut the door.”

Harry waits until the door is firmly shut behind James before gesturing to the box.

“Everything you asked for is in here, including the potions Draco just bottled. We’re going to spell it to require your magical signature so you can maintain your privacy.”

Draco draws his wand. “Put your hand flat on the top of the box.” 

James lays his hand on top of the box and Draco begins a complex series of wand movements and incantations. A tendril of silver magic wraps around James’ hand and the box before sinking into the wood.

“There you go. Go on and pack it in your bag. We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Thanks, Dad.” James hugs Harry tightly and then, after just a moment of hesitation, wraps his arms around Draco and hugs him, too. “Thanks, Draco.”

“You’re welcome, James.” Harry can hear the barely discernible catch in Draco’s voice. 

“You’re welcome, Son.” 

James lifts his box from the dresser and disappears into the hall. 

Less than an hour later, all four kids are packed and ready to use the Floo. Harry and Draco have given explicit instructions that they’re to keep quiet about the baby for now until it becomes public. The only exception is James who has permission to tell Matthew since they need to have a discussion about safe sex and contraception. Harry hopes James follows through in the entirety of the discussion, not just the pregnancy news. 

“All right.” Draco comes down the stairs and looks over the room. “Are you ready?”

“You and Dad are coming, aren’t you?” Albus asks. 

“We are,” Harry confirms, coming alongside Draco from the kitchen. “We’re having tea with the Headmistress in her office. We won’t embarrass you.” He winks at the kids. “Off we go. James first.”

Harry stumbles as he steps through to Minerva’s office. Thankfully, Draco knows the Floo is becoming even more difficult and is there to catch him. 

“Mr Potter,” Headmistress McGonagall greets him. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Likewise, Headmistress.” Harry grins at her before turning to the kids. “Everyone okay?” Four heads nod in reply. 

“Write if you need us, or ask the Headmistress to Floo.” Draco’s hand rests on Harry’s back and Harry can feel the tension radiating from him. He’s not ready to let them go, either. “Go on, then.” 

The two men find their arms full of all four of their kids. 

“I love the four of you.” Harry is trying desperately not to get choked up. “All right, go! We’ll see you at Easter!”

He watches them clamour down the stairs before turning back to Minerva. The look on her face is difficult to interpret. Something akin to pride, perhaps. 

“Thank you for letting them come for the weekend.” 

“You are most welcome. Have a seat, gentlemen.” She gestures to the small sitting area. The men settle side by side on the couch.

“I also wish to congratulate you on your engagement.”

“Thank you. We’re quite excited.” Draco squeezes Harry’s hand. 

The Headmistress sits in the armchair across from them. Harry watches as she begins to pour tea from the table between them, trying to decide if it’s better just to get on with the rest of their announcement. He glances at Draco, who nods. 

“We have other news, as well, Minerva.”

“Oh?” She slides each man a cup of tea, placing the sugar and cream between them. 

“Draco and I are expecting a baby.”

Minerva blinks rapidly. “Are you to tell me in eleven years’ time, Hogwarts will be host to a Potter-Malfoy child?”

“Well, we certainly hope so.” Draco fails to keep the mirth from his tone.

“I shall have to retire before then,” she quips, before breaking into a rare grin. “Congratulations, gentlemen. That is wonderful news. Am I correct in assuming that’s why the children were required at home?”

“Yes. We wanted to tell them in person, and I’m afraid I’m already starting to show.” Harry gestures to his stomach, hidden today beneath his robes. “We didn’t want the media to end up catching on and make the announcement before we told the children.”

“They are rather relentless.” Minerva shakes her head. “They were insufferable for several days after James and Mister McLelland were spotted as a couple in Hogsmeade.”

“James said as much.” Harry absolutely hates that his children are subject to this kind of scrutiny. He wants, more than anything, for them to just get to be kids.

“I do have my solicitor up to speed with the situation. We can have letters sent or action taken if you feel it’s ever warranted,” Draco tells Minerva. 

“I shall keep that in mind. So far, they’ve just been a nuisance at the gates.”

By the time they’ve discussed the pregnancy thus far and Albus’ Mind Healer situation, Harry is waning. After his third stifled yawn, Draco lays a hand on his knee.

“Minerva, I’m afraid I need to take this one home. He needs to rest. He’s had it rather rough the last couple of months.”

“Of course!” She stands and gestures to the Floo. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for the children. Or the two of you, for that matter. I am glad to see the two of you happy and doing well.”

“We certainly will,” Draco assures her before saying goodbye and stepping into the fireplace. 

“Harry.” Minerva’s voice is thick with emotion. She steps towards Harry and envelops him in a tight hug. “You seem so happy. It’s about time you get something good in life.”

He squeezes her in return. “I _am_ happy. Tired, and a bit unwell thanks to this little one, but very happy.”

Minerva steps back and squeezes his hands. “Off you go, then, before that fiancé of yours begins to fret. Keep in touch.”

“I will,” he promises and swirls away. 

* * *

Harry pads into Draco’s lab and settles on the couch, shaking his head as Draco doesn’t even notice. The lab Draco has created in the attic space allows him to work from home most of the time, and Harry is exceptionally thankful for the specially warded reading nook Draco’s made for him off to one side. There’s a comfortable couch and chair where Harry can lounge, read, and relax close to his fiancé that is safe for him, even while pregnant. 

He’s found himself there quite often, usually with books on male pregnancy or raising children in a blended family. Today, he finds himself with a book of a different kind. He opens _Secrets of the Night Sky_ and begins leafing through the pages. In an effort to combat the boredom from not working, he’s been searching for baby name ideas that are just right for this child that is a combination of the two of them. Something celestial would certainly honour Draco as a parent. 

Midway through turning a page, he gasps. _That was weird_. He lays a hand over his swollen belly and feels it again. It feels very much like a tiny fish is flopping about. _Was that the baby?_

“Harry?” Draco’s voice startles him. “Are you all right?” 

He looks up to see Draco’s concerned face looking at him from his workbench.

“I’m fine.” Harry smiles softly. “I think I felt the baby move.”

“Really?” Draco’s expression changes from concern to excitement as he crosses the room and perches on the couch next to Harry’s legs.

“Yeah. It feels kind of like a little fish wiggling around. This is the first time I’ve felt it.”

Draco’s hand slides over Harry’s abdomen and almost immediately, there’s another flutter. 

“I think the baby knows you,” Harry grins. “It just happened again. It won’t be long before you can feel it, too.” 

Draco seems just a little disappointed. “I know that will come later, but I wish I could feel it now.” 

“Soon. But we should get to _see_ the baby move in a little bit. Healer Carr comes in about twenty minutes.” 

“Is it that late already?” Draco’s surprise makes Harry chuckle. His fiancé loses himself in his work quite often. Having the lab at home has led to some unintentional late-night brewing when he forgets to set a _Tempus_ alarm.

“It is. You’ve been working hard; you didn’t even notice when I came in. Making progress on the potion?”

“I am. It’s got a ways to go, but I’ve gotten the core protectant to brew without being unstable.” 

Draco’s potion team is working on another potion series for the Childhood Malevolent Magic Exposure Study. This set of potions is meant to be given to children shortly after exposure to Dark Magic to prevent the residual malevolent magic from settling around their core. This would prevent the need for intensive treatment later in life, like core-binding and curse-breaking. 

“That’s phenomenal.” Harry’s voice is full of pride. “You’re amazing.”

“I want to prevent someone from going through what we had to experience. It’s going to be a long development process, but it will be worth it in the end.”

“It will. What do you have left to do before Healer Carr arrives?” 

“I’m at a good stopping point.” Draco stands and offers Harry a hand. “Why don’t we go downstairs, and you can get comfortable in the bedroom while I’ll make a quick cup of tea for us before she comes?”

“That sounds wonderful. Both the bed _and_ the tea.” He uses the offered hand to pull himself off the couch and wraps his arms around Draco’s middle, dropping his head onto the man’s shoulder. “I may have a nap after we’re done with this checkup.”

“Perhaps I’ll join you.” Draco’s lips press a kiss into Harry’s hair. “One of the benefits of working from home.” 

They’re halfway through their tea when the Floo chimes. A few minutes later, there’s a soft knock on the open bedroom door. 

“Come on in!” Draco is always so anxious to get a glimpse at the baby; Harry finds it absolutely adorable. He has to admit he’s anxious today, too, as he puts aside his tea and settles flat on the bed. Draco perches next to him and reaches for Harry’s hand.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Healer Carr greets them and immediately conjures her table and begins to unpack. “How are you feeling, Mr Potter?”

“Bigger! I’m still tired, but the nausea finally seems to be relenting. I’ve only been nauseous two mornings this week. I also think I felt the baby move today. It was a bit like a fish wiggling.”

Healer Carr nods, exposing Harry’s abdomen and casting over him, quill moving furiously over her parchment. “It’s about time for that, so it probably was. It won’t be too long before Mr Malfoy can feel it, as well.”

“I’m looking forward to that.” Draco squeezes Harry’s hand and grins down at him. 

Draco’s grin tugs at Harry’s heart. He couldn’t put proper words to it if he tried, but the feeling of having a baby with someone he loves as much as he loves Draco — and knowing how very thrilled that man is to be having a baby with him — does something to his emotions. 

“Everything preliminary looks good. Shall we do some imaging, then?” Healer Carr spreads the imaging potion over Harry’s belly and conjures her bubble. As soon as her wand touches his abdomen, there’s a tiny, wiggly baby visible.

Draco’s grip on his hand tightens, and Harry is astounded how much their baby has changed in the three weeks since his last appointment. While Harry was glad to be past the more frequent monitoring stage, he’s missed seeing their sweet baby every week.

“Let's take a closer look this time.” Healer Carr mutters an incantation and the image in the bubble is suddenly more defined. She begins moving her wand with small, precise movements against Harry’s abdomen until there’s a distinct tiny face. 

“Oh, Harry!” Draco gasps and Harry wrenches his gaze from the baby to look at Draco, who’s not even trying to hide the tears in his eyes. 

“Would you gentlemen like to know the sex? We should be able to tell today.” Healer Carr’s voice breaks through their moment. 

“We would love that.” Draco’s voice is thick. Harry can do little more than nod in confirmation. Healer Carr’s wand begins to move again and she stops to highlight and measure tiny arms and spine and legs, before settling on the area in question. 

“Well, someone’s feeling cooperative today.” Healer Carr adjusts the image and looks to Harry and Draco. “Congratulations gentlemen, it’s a boy.”

“We’re having a son,” Harry whispers, turning to accept a quick kiss from Draco. “Can you go back to his face? Just for a moment?” 

“Of course.” The Healer adjusts her wand until the little boy’s face pops back in to focus. “Would you like some images of his face?”

“Yes. Please.” Harry nods, unable to peel his gaze away from the little lips and nose and eyes that make up his and Draco’s son. _Our son. This is Draco’s son. Inside my body. How did I ever get so lucky?_

Healer Carr produces several images on parchment and hands them to Draco before vanishing the bubble and siphoning off the potion. “Everything looks picture perfect for a fifteen-week male pregnancy. Growth is right on track; everything looks well developed. We just need to check your canal, Mr Potter, and then we’ll be done.” 

Harry obligingly lifts one leg and sighs. He’s still not really comfortable with even his Healer being this up close and personal with his anatomy. That’s not avoidable, seeing as how he will be birthing a child in roughly twenty-three weeks, and he knows this. But he doesn’t have to like it.

Apparently sensing his unease, Draco leans down to whisper in his ear as the charms wash over him and the Healer’s fingers slide in.

“Harry. We’re having a son. You’re carrying our son. I would love you forever even if you’d never gotten pregnant, but I can’t even put into words what this little boy means to me. He’s _ours_.” 

“I know.” Harry turns his mouth against Draco’s ear. “I can’t believe your son is growing inside me.” 

“All done.” Healer Carr straightens and covers Harry’s hips as he lowers his leg. Draco’s distraction had the desired effect and he hasn’t been focused on the invasive fingers, but on the love of his life and their son. “I think we can go four weeks, this time. I know you had a rough start of it with your pregnancy, but everything looks outstanding. You can always Floo if you have concerns.”

“Thank you, Healer Carr.” Harry nods to her. 

“You’re welcome, Mr Potter. I’ll see myself out.” With a wave of her wand, her bag is packed and her table vanishes, then she’s descending the stairs. 

“Still want that nap?” Draco asks.

“Yes. Very much.”

As soon as they hear the Floo, Draco is stripping and sliding into bed next to Harry. Draco’s body winds around his and Harry settles his back against the blond’s chest. A hand snakes around to lie protectively over their son, and they both drift off to sleep.

* * *

Draco is standing at the hob, stirring something that smells wonderful when Harry comes downstairs from his nap. 

“Did you…cook?” Harry can’t keep the surprise from his voice. Draco _can_ cook; he’s just not necessarily the best chef, and he _certainly_ doesn’t enjoy it. 

“Salazar, no!” Draco laughs. “Hermione’s in the loo. She brought curry. I’m just on warming duty.”

“Oh, I didn’t know she was coming over tonight.”

“She called on the Floo not long after I woke up. She has some more books for you and a couple of new DVDs. I asked if she wanted to come on through and wait for you to wake up. She offered to bring dinner. She got here about fifteen minutes ago.” 

Harry would have lost his mind at home by now if it weren’t for Hermione. She’s been supplying him with a steady stream of books — fiction and non-fiction — and DVDs. It’s not unusual anymore for Hermione to be around a few evenings a week, chatting with Harry about what’s going on at the Ministry or puttering around the potions lab upstairs with Draco, seeing what he’s got brewing.

The door to the loo clicks open and Harry turns, seeing Hermione’s face break into a grin. She crosses and wraps her arms around him. 

“Hi, Harry,” she says into his chest.

“Hey.” He returns her embrace. “How was your committee meeting today?”

She huffs and moves to the hob, taking the spoon from Draco. 

“The Committee for Wizarding Welfare meeting was fine. When we tried to meet with the Wizengamot members to talk about making actual changes, though, everything went sideways.” An exasperated sigh punctuates her plating of the food. “They’re fine with the ideas, but they refuse to put any money behind it. I don’t know how they expect us to make life better for people without any money.”

“Are they going to let you independently fundraise, then?” Draco asks, settling at the table with Harry. “You mentioned that last week.”

“We’re in negotiations.” Hermione rolls her eyes before gesturing at the plates on the counter. “Harry, would you? My wand is in my purse.”

Harry lifts a hand and levitates the plates of curry to the table, Hermione following behind with extra rice and a basket of naan.

“Enough about my work.” She places the food on the table and sits down as they all dig in. “How was your appointment today?” 

Harry can’t help but grin, and Draco beams right alongside him. 

“It was great. We’re having a son.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” 

“We have pictures of his face.” Draco’s pride in their son is evident in his voice. “Everything looks good otherwise, as well.” 

“I’d love to see them.” Hermione catches Harry’s eye and the look on her face speaks volumes. She’s so happy for them, and it’s genuine and whole-hearted, but she also lost her partner — albeit in a different way — and hasn’t found what Harry and Draco have. Harry can see the moment she stuffs those emotions inside. “Have you told the kids yet?”

Draco shakes his head. “No, we laid down for our nap right after Healer Carr left. We’ll write them tonight before we go to bed.” 

“Lily will be relieved,” Harry chuckles. “She didn’t want to be unseated as ‘Daddy’s Princess’.”

Hermione snorts. “Did she actually say that?”

“Not in as many words. But basically, yes.” Harry rolls his eyes. Lily, as always, had not been shy in telling Harry exactly what she thought about the baby situation. She’s extremely excited to be a big sister, but she had no qualms in telling Harry she wanted it to be a boy because she liked being the only girl.

“Are you guys ready to have five kids running around this house?” Hermione asks wryly.

“Merlin no, but we’re going to do it anyhow,” Draco quips. “We’ve talked about building on to the house, actually.”

“Really?”

Harry nods. “Draco took the attic space for his lab. We had two spare bedrooms, one is Scorp’s and one will be the baby’s. We could convert the study to another bedroom, but we both use the study, and it’s a nice escape when the kids are all home.”

“We’re thinking about adding a game room, at least one more bathroom, and a couple more bedrooms.” Draco eyes Hermione as he continues. “Possibly a library so we can get some of the books out of the study.”

Hermione’s eyes go wide at the mention of a library and Harry can’t help but laugh. Hermione, for all the changing she’s done, is still her eleven-year-old self when it comes to books.

“I think that sounds brilliant!”

“The library or the whole thing?” Harry teases.

“The whole thing.” Hermione shoots him a look. “But yes, especially the library. Are you planning on finishing it before the baby?”

“We’ll have some contractors out to take a look once everything’s public with this one.” Harry rubs his stomach lightly. 

“When are you going to let _that_ slip?” Hermione inquires.

“Soon. We want it over with before the kids come home for Easter. I’m pretty close to not being able to hide it, even in robes. I’m already having to be selective in what I wear if we go out.” Harry sighs. “I do wish we could just have our family business be _our family business_. I hate having our happiness evaluated by the public for validity.”

“You’ve not had your life to yourself since you were eleven, Harry,” Hermione reminds him. 

“Oh, I know. It’s just…different now, for some reason. I’m happy for the first time in a really long time. I just want to enjoy it.”

Draco smiles at him warmly. “We _can_ just enjoy it, love. What they think doesn’t get to change how we celebrate our happiness.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Well aren’t you two just sickeningly sweet.”

“Yup!” they reply, simultaneously.

Harry can’t resist sticking his tongue out her before joining Draco in grinning broadly. 

After Hermione’s gone home, Harry spreads several large books and sheets of parchment out over the bed in front of himself and Draco. They’ve decided to use the rest of the evening to try to find a name for their son.

“These are the books I’ve got so far.” He surveys them again. “We could look for some more.”

“Surely there’s an acceptable name for our son somewhere in here.” Draco shakes his head and smiles. “I know you’ve written some things down, too.”

“Just notes, no actual names.” Harry hasn’t wanted to make any kind of naming decision without Draco’s input. It’s very important to him that this name be something both of them love.

“What do your notes say, then?” Draco peers over and Harry shows him the parchment.

“I want his name to somehow represent both of us,” Harry explains. “Obviously, my notes for a girl are moot. I know for you, something celestial, but I don’t know what would represent me yet.” 

“We can start with the celestial name and see what fits?” 

Harry nods. “That’s a starting point, at least.” 

He pulls two books of constellations towards him and flips open the large one to a diagram of the constellations of the night sky, spreading it across both their laps.

“I found this one most useful when I was looking for stars or constellations that would work for names. We’ll have to switch to the other if we look at planets and moons.”

“We can see what’s here first. There I am.” Draco points. “And there’s Scorpius.” 

“And Sirius.” Harry runs his fingers over the stars, pausing over a constellation. “What about Orion?”

“Scorpius kills Orion in mythology.” Draco shakes his head. _Well, that won’t do. Can’t have one of our sons kill the other, even mythologically._

“So that’s a no.” Harry slides his finger over. “I don’t like Cygnus.”

“Neither do I. That was my great grandfather.” Draco pauses. “What about Etamin?” 

“That’s in your stars, isn’t it?” Harry shifts the book so the page with Draco is between them.

“Yes. Brightest star in Draco. And you and our son are the brightest spots in my life in a very long time.” Draco’s emotions are wild in his voice — some combination of love and happiness and maybe being overwhelmed by having more of both than he’s been accustomed to in life.

Harry finds himself choked up and he nods. “I like that.”

“Middle name, though, I think,” Draco muses. “It’s not really able to be turned into anything that is more typical.”

“What do we do for the first name, then?” 

Draco reaches for a parchment containing a diagram of the Potter family tree. “Let’s see what’s in your family.”

Harry isn’t sure this will get them very far. He’s been over his family tree, at least as much of it as he has, and he really hasn’t seen anything he’d want to name their son. He leans over Draco’s shoulder and points.

“Henry, here, went by ‘Harry.’ That’s who I was named after. And Fleamont—”

“We are not naming our son Fleamont!” Draco interjects.

“Of course not. But he invented Sleekeazy’s. That’s where my family got all their gold. I still get a quarterly payout from them. It was part of the terms of sale when he sold the company.”

Running his fingers down the parchment, Draco’s face turns contemplative. “What do the different colours mean?”

“Oh, that’s their Hogwarts Houses. Black means they went elsewhere, but otherwise, colours correspond to their sorted House.”

“So many Gryffindors,” Draco mutters.

“You’re engaged to _and_ having a baby with a Gryffindor!” Harry retorts.

“I know!” Draco chuckles, “and I’m happier about that than I could ever put into words. Still a lot of lions!”

“Hmmm.” Harry pulls the book of constellations closer. “We _do_ have a lot of Gryffindors. Lions…so Leo?” Harry doesn’t particularly like that one, but it’s certainly better than his family names.

“Maybe?” Draco runs his hands down the page to Leo, studying the stars within. “What about Regulus? ‘The star that stands at the lion’s breast.’ The heart of the lion, brightest star in Leo.”

 _My bright spot. My heart. And Sirius' brother, who helped me bring down Voldemort before I was even born._ Harry’s eyes swim with tears.

“Yes. That’s perfect.” 

“Regulus Etamin.” Draco rolls the name around on his tongue. 

“That’s it. That’s our son’s name.”

“What do you think, little one?” Draco puts his hands on Harry’s hips, speaking to the bump. “Would you like to be Regulus Etamin? The brightest spot for both your daddies in a very long time?”

Harry’s tears spill over when Regulus gives a tiny wiggle in his belly.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry has just returned to the bedroom from putting the books away in the study when Draco’s throwing open the window to let Woody in. The owl pecks at Draco’s fingers as he tries to untie the parchment from his leg. 

“Oh, you nuisance of a bird!” Draco growls, finally freeing the rolled missive. 

“He really is an arse.” Harry holds the bedroom door open so Woody can go join Edgar downstairs. _I wonder what James needs, he just wrote a few days ago._

The two men meet at the bed, sliding under the covers as Draco opens the letter between them.

*

_Dad and Draco,_

_Everyone is fine here at Hogwarts. I hope Dad is still feeling better. Lily is sitting with me in the Common Room and she says to tell you she loves you._

_I wanted to ask for some advice for Matthew, and for me, I guess. He’s made the decision to come out to his parents over Easter. Since they’re Muggles, they haven’t seen the Prophet and have no idea that Matthew is gay, let alone that he has a boyfriend. He knows his parents have a history of not being accepting of LGBTQIA+ people, so he’s worried it’s not going to go well._

_I don’t know what to do. I want his parents to accept him and our relationship, but I can’t control that. I also don’t know what I can do if it goes poorly. Matthew has said it won’t change anything between us no matter what they say, but what happens if they totally freak out? I don’t know how to help. Any ideas?_

_I’m doing well and studying hard. I got an O on my Potions exam this week, so I’m feeling more hopeful about my O.W.L. now. I think having a Ravenclaw boyfriend to study with helps!_

_Write soon!_

_Love,_

_James_

*

“Well. That’s a big step.” Harry scans the letter again. 

“It is. Especially when you know you have parents who won’t be accepting. I’ve got some experience there.” Draco sighs and Harry squeezes his hand in an effort to be some kind of comfort. Part of the continuing rift between Draco and his mother after his father went to Azkaban was her refusal to accept Draco’s sexuality. His father, of course, was completely unaccepting as well, but there was only so much he could do from his cell. Draco had literally no one after Astoria left. 

“We can at least make sure Matthew has some support if it goes poorly,” Harry says firmly. “He won’t be left alone like you were.”

“Absolutely. If it goes absolutely awful, we can bring him here for the rest of the break and figure it out from there.” Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “I won’t let another child feel like I felt. He shouldn’t be made to feel dirty or worthless just because he’s attracted to men. It took me years to be truly okay with my sexuality after what my parents said.” 

“So what should we tell James? This is so much for two teenage boys to have to navigate.” Harry doesn’t know how to tell a child who was always accepted how to watch his boyfriend navigate a potential parental rejection. “James never had to have some big ‘coming out.’ The kids grew up knowing I’m bi and that they’d be accepted no matter their sexuality. James got his first crush on a boy when he was like…seven? Eight maybe?”

“Do you know how lucky your kids are to have you as their father?” Draco kisses Harry’s cheek. “As for what we’ll tell James, let me go fetch some parchment and a quill and we’ll figure it out.”

An hour later, they’re sending Woody back into the night with a letter on board.

*

_James and Matthew,_

_First, Matthew, we are supportive of you and your decision to come out to your parents. It takes a lot of courage, especially when you know it might not go well. We don’t know if you are aware, but Draco’s mum did not handle his coming out well. We promise you that you will have our support, no matter what happens. You are welcome to talk with Draco any time about his experience if you would find that helpful._

_While we hope things go well, if they do not, all you have to do is call James. We’ll bring his mobile to the platform when we pick him up so he will have it if you need him. We will help in any way we can, including coming to get you if that becomes necessary. You have a place here and you are wanted and welcome._

_James, the only thing you really can do is be there. There is, unfortunately, nothing we can do to make this easier or better. Be supportive, even when emotions run high. It’s going to be a rough couple of weeks and that’s okay. You’ll both come out on the other side._

_We are proud of you both and we are here if you need us. If something is urgent, have the Headmistress call us through the Floo._

_We love you,_

_Dad and Draco_

*

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror, Harry smoothes his robes and turns again. He sighs and pokes his head out of the bedroom door.

“Draco!” 

The man in question pops his head out of the study. 

“Yes, love?”

“I think we’ve reached the point of no return.” He moves back into the bedroom, and Draco follows, standing behind him as he turns to the mirror again. “Even my loosest robes aren’t going to hide my bump anymore.”

Draco’s arms slide around his middle to hold the place where Regulus is growing. At eighteen weeks in a male pregnancy, there’s no way Harry looks anything but pregnant. His skinny frame has nowhere for a baby to go but out, and he can’t blame weight gain if the only place that’s bigger is his round belly.

“You realise I love the fact that you look pregnant, right?” Draco asks. And Harry does. Draco tells him often how much he loves seeing the outward evidence of Regulus’ growth, and how sexy he finds it that Harry is carrying his child. This baby has turned an already affectionate Draco into absolute mush.

“I know.” Harry leans his head back to kiss Draco’s jaw. “But if we’re going to go out today, I think we’re going to have to let the proverbial cat out of the bag.”

“The kids come home for break next week. We were going to do it over the weekend anyway, so might as well do it today.” Draco seems unconcerned, but while Harry really doesn’t care if people know — he’s quite proud to be carrying Draco’s child — he’s not looking forward to the gasps and the stares and the gossip. 

“I just wish people would mind their own business,” Harry shrugs. “Want to help me pick out something to wear that puts this one on display, then? Might as well leave no room for doubt.”

Harry can’t help but laugh at the gleeful look in Draco’s eyes. The magical tailor Draco hired has created a wide array of clothes to accommodate Harry’s bump that are charmed to magically expand as he grows and then magically shrink as Harry’s body returns to normal after the birth. He knows he looks good in the clothes — as good as one can look pregnant — but he’s never cared as much about fashion as Draco. He does, however, appreciate the way Draco looks at him when he’s wearing well-tailored clothes. 

“Wear the charcoal trousers and the green jumper. Will you get too warm if you wear a dress shirt under it?” 

“It should be fine since we’ll be out. It’s cold.” Harry turns in Draco’s arms for a kiss before heading for his wardrobe. 

Dressed and ready, Harry surveys himself in the mirror again.

“I definitely look pregnant.”

“Harry. You look pregnant because you _are_ pregnant,” Draco sighs, rolling his eyes. “I feel like we’ve been over this before.”

Harry laughs. “I know, you berk. Are you ready to go?”

“I am. Do you want to Side-Along with me or are you feeling up to the Floo?”

Harry groans. Apparating on his own is no longer doable, because of how incredibly dizzy and nauseous he gets on arrival. The Floo is only slightly better, and he’s never been graceful exiting a fireplace. 

“I’d rather Side-Along, you’ll just have to hold me up when we land.”

“Of course.” Draco smiles. “Where do you want to start?” 

“With lunch?” he requests hopefully.

“Hungry again?”

“I’m always hungry nowadays. But you need the Apothecary, and we need to go to a Gringotts branch. And frankly, I just need out of the house for a while. We can look at baby things if we want to drive the point home. And maybe stop at Pixies and Petit Fours?

“We’ll hit the Apothecary and Gringotts after lunch, and then we can do whatever you feel up to doing. Just don’t overdo it.”

“I’ve got more energy this week. Healer Carr said it happens in the second trimester sometimes. I’m thankful for it. I’m really tired of being exhausted.”

“Well, let’s take advantage of it today.” Draco offers an arm and Harry takes it. “Ready?” 

“No, but let’s go anyway.” Harry feels Draco turn and the twist behind his navel sends his head swirling.

Draco immediately wraps his arms around him as they land, rubbing his back until the world rights. He steps back and Draco looks him over carefully.

“Better?” 

“Yes. It doesn’t last long but it’s awful.” Harry straightens and takes Draco’s hand. “Lunch?” 

“Yep. Here we go,” Draco sighs. 

They step out of the Apparition point and head for Pasta Magia. 

“One…two…three…four…” Draco’s counting is audible to only himself and Harry. “five…si—”

“Great Godric’s ghost!” A glance in the direction of the sound leads to a woman staring wide-eyed at his stomach. 

“Huh. Under seven seconds. Impressive,” Draco chuckles. 

Harry can’t help but roll his eyes. “You’re incorrigible, love.” 

“But you like me this way.” Harry loses his battle to keep a straight face when he catches Draco waggling his eyebrows at him. 

“Of course I do,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Come on. I’m starving.”

By the time they’ve enjoyed lunch, the outside of the restaurant is swarming with gawkers, reporters, and photographers. Draco wraps his arm around Harry’s waist as they pause just inside the door.

“They better stay back. I will hex anyone that touches you.” Draco glowers through the window at the masses.

“Don’t hex anyone, Draco. I’ll be fine.” Harry loves Draco’s protective side, but he also has no desire to deal with the ramifications of his fiancé hexing the public.

“Here we go.” Draco pushes open the door and guides Harry through. A cacophony of questions begins flying immediately.

“Mr Potter! Are you pregnant?” _Nope. I’ve just shoved a Bludger under my shirt for fun._

“Is the baby Mr Malfoy’s?” _No, it’s Voldemort’s._

“Was this an accident?” _Yes, I tripped and fell right on my fiancé’s penis._

“Vultures. All of them,” Harry mutters, re-evaluating his stance on the hexing. Draco snorts and they make their way down the sidewalk to the Apothecary. Harry again wishes that he could just enjoy his life without this madness. But he’s determined not to let the press and the public steal their happiness, so he leans close into Draco and focuses instead on enjoying a day out with the man he loves. 

The next morning’s Prophet boasts a picture of the pair of them, through the front window of Little Witches and Wizards. Harry is looking at baby clothes, bump clearly visible, while Draco rubs his back. He smiles at the picture. Media and their hijinks aside, it’s actually a lovely shot of them shopping for the son they both love so much. 

* * *

“Dad! Draco! Over here!”

Harry turns at the sound of James’ voice and sees all four kids plus Matthew hurrying towards them. He grins at the sight. He’s missed having all of them under one roof. 

Lily reaches him first, arms outstretched for a hug.

“I can’t reach all the way around you anymore!” she giggles before putting a hand on either side of his belly. “Hi, baby brother!”

Harry smiles down at her before she’s shuffled towards Draco and he finds himself with an armful of Albus and Scorpius. 

“I’m so glad to have you home.” He studies them both as they pull away. Albus, to his delight, looks wonderful. He looks as if he’s been sleeping more and his face isn’t pinched or drawn with worry. “Good trip?”

“It was fine,” Scorpius reports with a smile. 

“It was good, dad.” Albus meets his father’s eyes and they both grin. “Things are really good.”

“I’m so glad.” Harry is flooded with relief, knowing exactly what Al’s cryptic bit of communication means. They’ll talk about it more at home, of course. He passes them both to Draco, who wraps his arms around both boys. 

He looks over to James and Matthew, who are standing with hands clasped, both looking as if they might very well vomit. He embraces both of them briefly. 

“James, your mobile is in Draco’s jacket pocket. I was running a bit warm and didn’t want to wear mine.” 

His son grins. “Pregnancy hazard?” 

“You have no idea,” Harry quips. 

“And thank Merlin for that,” James mutters.

“Matthew? Are your parents meeting you outside the station?”

“They are.” His voice is unsteady, and James puts an arm around his waist in support. 

“Have you decided when you’ll talk to them?” Draco asks as he appears beside Harry.

“As soon as we get home. I’m not even going to unpack my trunk, just in case.”

“Okay. Will you call James just as soon as you’re done? No matter how it goes?” Harry wants to make sure that Matthew’s safety is accounted for, regardless of the outcome. 

The young man nods. “I will.”

“Good. You are welcome at ours any time.” Harry turns to James. “We’ve a Portkey home since I can’t Side-Along any of you anymore, so why don’t you walk Matthew to the barrier and find a place to say goodbye for now?”

Both older men hug Matthew, and Harry notices Draco speaking softly into his ear. 

“Thank you,” Matthew says softly as he grasps James’ hand, and they cross the platform. 

Harry glances at Draco. “He looks positively terrified.”

“I can tell you from experience that he _is_ positively terrified.” Draco’s eyes hold a sadness Harry doesn’t recognise. But he’s never been rejected for his sexuality the way Draco has and the way Matthew fears, so he knows he can’t possibly truly understand. 

“Ok, you three!” Harry turns back to the younger children. “We’ve got a Portkey home because I can’t Side-Along anyone this far along. We’ll activate it as soon as James comes back.”

“Why can’t you Side-Along?” Al asks. 

“It’s a precaution. It takes more magic to Side-Along, and a lot of my magic is being used to keep your brother safe. I can still Apparate myself up until the last six weeks.” Harry is pleased to see Albus looking interested and not terrified during the explanation. 

Scorpius yawns and Al elbows him and grins. Harry eyes them speculatively. _Something is going on_. 

“Tired, Scorp?” Draco asks. 

“Yeah. I was up late,” Scorpius shrugs. Albus giggles. 

“All right, what’s going on?” Draco looks sceptically at his son, who turns immediately red. “Out with it.”

“I was up late talking to Carina Demont. She’s in our year.”

“Ahh. Is this something we should discuss at home?”

“Probably.” Scorpius stares at his shoes. 

Scorpius is saved from further interrogation by the return of a red-eyed James. 

“Everything all right?” Harry’s heart hurts for his son. 

“Yeah. He was just scared, and it sucks not to be there for him.”

“I know. But let’s get home and get settled, yeah? That way, when he calls, you can give whatever support necessary.” Harry puts an arm around James’ shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son. You’re being a good partner to Matthew at a time he really needs it.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

They turn to where Draco has the other children and their luggage arranged for the Portkey. 

“Ready?”

James and Harry reach out and touch the length of rope, Draco touches the activation point, and they are all deposited in the living room of Potter Cottage. 

Harry feels himself sway as the world inverts and an arm is immediately tight around his waist. He finds himself leaning on James’ shoulder. 

“Dad? You ok?” 

“Give him a moment, James. The world will steady itself and he’ll be right as rain,” Draco says softly.

A couple of moments and some deep breaths later, Harry stands upright. James watches carefully until he’s sure his father is steady on his feet, then releases his waist.

“Sorry, James. I should have warned you. Magical travel is rather rough thanks to this one.” Harry rests his hands on his belly.

“You’re okay now?” James is still studying him carefully. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“I’m fine. It just takes a minute for everything to settle. Go on up and get unpacked, all of you.” Harry lifts a hand and sends their trunks upstairs. 

He smiles as the sound of four pairs of feet clamour up the stairs. Turning to Draco, he leans into his chest and sighs happily. 

“I am so glad they’re home. I love having our house full of our kids, all of us together.”

“Me, too.” Draco gently tips Harry’s chin up and covers his mouth with those perfect, pink lips. He sighs into the kiss as a tongue teases his lips open.

He’s just given Draco’s arse a firm squeeze when he hears Scorpius’ voice. 

“I know exactly what you two get up to, but I could have done without the visual.”

“Go back upstairs, son,” Draco says against Harry’s mouth. 

“I can’t unsee that, you know.” Footsteps retreat and Draco kisses Harry again softly. 

“I’ve changed my mind about liking our house full of kids.” 

Harry moves his hands from Draco’s arse to his hips. 

“It’s not like they don’t know we kiss, Draco. Not to mention I’m pregnant, and they all know how that happens, too.” 

“Yes, but I’m sure they’d all prefer to be spared the mental image.”

“True.” Harry returns his head to Draco’s chest. “We should figure out some food before our children decide they will starve.”

“We can order in. Does anything sound good?”

“Carbs.” Harry pauses. “And cheese.”

“Right, so, pregnancy food it is,” Draco teases, heading for the kitchen to leaf through the takeaway menus. All Harry has craved the last three weeks has been bread and pasta and carby food and cheese. Any kind of cheese. Draco ends up ordering multiple giant pans of pasta and chicken in various sauces with several orders of cheese-covered garlic bread from FlooFood to be delivered at dinner time. There’s also going to be salad, but that’s really not relevant to Harry’s pregnant self.

Harry climbs the stairs to Albus’ room and knocks. 

“Al?” 

“Come in!” Al’s voice calls. 

Harry enters to find his son unpacking clothes. He looks more relaxed, and Harry hopes the impression he’s receiving is accurate. He perches on the edge of the bed and watches Al continue to move around his room. 

“How are things going?”

“Really good, Dad. I wasn’t kidding in my letters or back at the platform.” The smile Al flashes as he crosses to his dresser again is a genuine grin. “Healer Marris is still great; he’s helped me start journaling and learning ways to cope. But I think the potion is making the most difference now that it’s been a few weeks. I can breathe easier, and my brain has room for more than panic.“

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” Harry knows this will be a long journey for Al, and probably a life-long treatment plan, but he’s thrilled Al is already seeing a difference. 

“It’s not perfect, but it’s better, and it _keeps_ getting better. Healer Marris said that means we’re on the right track.” Al pauses. “And I told Scorp that I’m seeing a Mind Healer and taking a potion.”

“What brought that on?” Harry is a little confused, as Al had been adamant that no one else knew. 

“He won’t think of me any differently, and it’s nice to have someone at school to talk to about it.” Al moves to set his potions case on his bedside table. “I know I’ve written to you several times, but it helps to have Scorpius.” 

“I’m glad you both have each other. There’s been a lot of changes in both of your lives the last several months.”

“Yeah, but almost all of the changes have been good.” Al perches next to his dad. “The only bad thing has really been when you were sick, and even that was for a happy reason.”

“You boys think all of this has been good?”

“Hasn’t it?”

“I certainly think it has — minus the being ill, of course — but I’m in a different position than you are. I know you’ve been okay with everything, but I wasn’t sure you thought it was all _good_.” 

“Scorp and I were both glad you and Draco started dating, we told you that!” Al pauses and Harry’s not sure how to interpret the look on his son’s face. “And the baby took a while to sink in, but we’re both happy for a little brother. Scorp has always wanted a sibling, and now he’ll have four!”

“The baby took a bit to sink in for us, too,” Harry laughs. “Draco and I were both taken by surprise.” 

“I know. But you’re happy, right?”

“Yes, Al. I’m happier than I’ve been in a very long time. I have a fiancé I love very much who loves me in return and treats me wonderfully well. We have four amazing kids and one more on the way.” He pats Al’s shoulder. “This is the kind of happiness I wish for you kids one day.” 

“I’m really glad you’re happy, Dad. We were all kind of worried about you being alone when we all went to Hogwarts.”

“Kind of worried?” Harry raises an eyebrow at his son. 

“Ok, so I was really worried,” Al concedes, “but things are good now.”

“They are. I’m glad they’re good for you, too. You’ll come talk to me if that changes, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Harry hugs Al and stands. “I’m going to go see how the unpacking is going, but Draco ordered dinner and it should be here in an hour or so.”

“Sounds good.”

* * *

Harry is helping Draco set the pasta out on the island when footsteps come flying down the stairs. James rushes into the kitchen, tears falling down his face, phone pressed to his ear. 

“I found Dad and Draco. I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?”

He lowers the phone and presses the speaker button. The sound of sobbing fills the kitchen and Harry wraps an arm around his son, who has joined his boyfriend in crying. 

“Matthew? It’s Harry. Are you safe?”

“Yeah,” Matthew hiccups. 

Draco’s face is already contorting into anger. “I am going to assume your coming out did not go well?”

“No.” Matthew has to pause talking to get his sobs under control. “They told me I need to get out.”

Harry’s unprepared for the amount of rage he feels towards Matthew’s parents. _Who does that to their child?_ He carefully schools his voice to be caring and supportive instead of angry.

“When?” 

“Tonight. They said I’m not—“ He dissolves into sobs again, and it takes several moments before he can form words. “— not welcome here.” 

Draco is completely enraged and swiftly lifts his wand, murmuring a summoning spell. 

“I’m so sorry, Matthew.” Harry tries to offer the distraught teen some kind of comfort but isn’t sure how much comfort a teen who has just been rejected by his parents can even feel. “I can’t imagine how that hurts.”

Draco’s coat and a tiny trunk soar from the entry cupboard into his hand. Harry immediately recognises it as one of their extendable trunks. Despite the terrible circumstance, his heart warms. Draco is not going to let Matthew be alone or unwanted, not like he was. 

“Matthew?” Draco’s tone is caring but carefully controlled, and Harry realises he must be feeling the same way. 

“Yeah?”

“Stay in your room and stay on the phone with Harry and James. I’m on my way to get you.” 

Draco kisses Harry’s cheek, hugs James, and Apparates away. Harry knows when the doorbell rings over the phone less than ten seconds later that Draco didn’t use an approved Apparition point. He must have Apparated directly onto Matthew’s front stoop. 

“Draco’s here,” Matthew says quietly. “I can hear him talking to my parents.”

“Is he talking or shouting?” Harry asks in concern. 

“Talking. He’s talking very calmly.”

“Well shit.” Harry knows Draco well enough to know that on the other side of his rage is a deadly calm. It involves cool, calculated Slytherin-style cunning and revenge. _Merlin, I hope he doesn’t hurt the Muggles. Well, not too badly_. 

“He’s coming upstairs.” 

“Matthew.” Draco’s voice is followed by scuffled shuffling noises, and Harry is sure Draco’s just wrapped the boy in a hug. There’s an uptick in Matthews sobs again and he can hear quiet murmuring from Draco that can’t be understood over the phone. 

A few moments later, there’s more shuffling, then a muttered unshrinking spell. 

“Are we packing everything in this room?”

There’s no response, so Harry assumes Matthew has nodded, because the next thing they hear is a series of powerful shrinking and packing charms. The snap of a trunk lid and latches is followed by a shrinking spell. 

“Harry? James?”

“Yes?” James answers.

“We’re going to hang up so I can Apparate Matthew home. We’ll be there in a moment.” 

The phone flashes as the call is disconnected, and then Matthew and Draco appear in the kitchen. 

Matthew is immediately in James’ arms and Harry and Draco are wrapped around both boys. For several long minutes, the men hold the two sobbing teenagers, neither able to keep tears from tracking down their own cheeks. 

When the sobs have slowed, Harry steps back and surveys both boys. They’re puffy-faced and red-eyed and Harry’s heart breaks all over again for his son and the boy he cares so much for. 

“Do you need to talk, or do you need some time?” he asks Matthew.

“Some time, if that’s okay?” The young man sounds absolutely broken. 

“Of course it is. Why don’t you go up to James’ room and take all the time you need?” 

Matthew nods and tugs on James’ hand, indicating that he’d like his boyfriend to come with him. They slowly climb the stairs, and Harry turns to look at his fiancé. 

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“What did you do to the Muggles.”

“Don’t ask questions, Harry.” 

“Am I going to be dealing with Ministry officials?”

“Of course not.”

Harry sighs. He may never find out what Draco did, but perhaps that’s for the best — for everyone except Matthew’s parents. 


	19. Chapter 19

The younger three children join Harry and Draco in the living room, where Harry knows he must attempt to explain what’s happened with Matthew to three children who have never known there is something a child could do to “deserve” the rejection of their parents. This is, by far, one of the most challenging parenting moments he’s ever had.

“Okay. Matthew is here, he upstairs with James. He—”

“I thought he was going home,” Lily asserts, sounding confused. 

“He did, Lil. But Matthew decided it was time to tell his parents that he’s gay, and it did not go well.”

“Why wouldn’t it go well?” _Oh, my sweet Lily._

“Not everyone is okay with people being gay. Or bi, for that matter. Some people believe that it’s a choice, not just how someone is.” 

“That’s ridiculous! Why wo—” 

“Wait,” Al interrupts Lily, “did Matthew’s parents kick him out?”

“They told him he needed to leave, yes.” Harry is trying to be matter of fact, but it’s getting harder. This isn’t a cut and dry, easy-to-understand situation.

“Forever?” Al asks.

“We really don’t know yet. I spoke to them briefly when I went to get Matthew. They are quite upset and were very insistent that his ‘lifestyle choice’ wasn’t acceptable in their home.” Draco sighs. “After I told them that I was James’ dad’s fiancé, they didn’t seem too keen on me being there, either, so I went upstairs, packed Matthew’s things, and we came here. We’ll try talking to them again later, once they’ve had time to deal with their emotions.”

“Draco, I don’t understand.” Lily’s brow is furrowed as her eleven-year-old brain tries to process this information. 

“Lily, sweetheart, I don’t understand either.” Draco’s voice is gentle. “Nothing any of you kids could ever do would make your dad or me want you to leave. Certainly not the gender of the person you’re attracted to.”

“What’s going to happen to Matthew?” There are tears forming in Lily’s eyes and Harry moves to sit next to her, putting an arm around her slim frame. Lily has always been James’ little sidekick, and she adores Matthew just like she adores her big brother. 

“Matthew is safe,” Harry assures his daughter. “He’s here and will stay with us until the five of you go back to Hogwarts.”

“But then what?”

Harry looks past Lily to Scorpius. “We’re not sure yet, but no matter what, we’ll make sure that Matthew is safe, has a place where he is accepted and loved, and has the things he needs. For now, that’s with us and we are happy to have him stay, but a lot of this will be Matthew’s decisions, not ours.”

“This all sucks,” Lily declares. 

“Yes, Lily, it does. It totally sucks,” Harry sighs. “Matthew may need some space as he deals with this, but the best thing we can be is supportive and willing to listen.”

“For now, there’s dinner in the kitchen.” Draco gestures to the counter, where the pans of pasta sit abandoned. “I’ll hit it with a couple of warming charms and we can eat. James and Matthew can join us when they’re ready.” 

Plates filled, the kids sprawl in the living room and opt to watch a movie while they eat. Harry is thankful the kids all seem to be rolling with the changes that keep coming at them. There’s still a lot to figure out, but for him and for Draco, there was never any other option than to take care of Matthew the best they can. The question is what, exactly, that’s going to look like.

“How do we do this?” Draco slides into a seat at the kitchen table with a full plate as Harry sits across from him. 

“I want Matthew to know he’s loved and welcome here.” 

“Agreed, and not just because he’s James’ boyfriend.”

“I’m thinking we should give Matthew his own room. I know he’ll probably continue to sleep in James’ bed, and I’m fine with that. Otherwise, they’re just going to sneak around. But he needs his own space so he can process or think if he needs to, and so he knows his welcome isn’t tied to James. I don’t see them splitting up — but just in case.”

“That’s appropriate. It also means we are fresh out of bedrooms for Regulus, so I’ll start calling contractors tomorrow.”

“Merlin, this is going to get hectic.” Harry shakes his head. “Matthew can give his parents the break to calm down and maybe write them when he’s back at school. If they will allow him to come home, he can decide if he wants to do that. If they refuse to let him back in the house or he doesn’t want to go back, we probably need to figure out some kind of guardianship for the summer. Just in case there’s an emergency or he needs medical attention.” 

“I can ask our solicitor what we would need to do. When does he turn seventeen?”

“Second of September. He’s an early birthday, we celebrated at the end of summer with him last year, so we really only have to worry about his parents through the summer.”

“Does he have his own vault?”

“I don’t know. We’ll need to help him get one if he doesn’t. And make sure he has sufficient gold for what he needs at school.”

“We probably need to put his mobile on our plan, as well. I’m not sure if his parents will cancel it in anger.”

“We can do both of those things tomorrow. You’ll have to take him to Muggle London for the phone. I obviously can’t be among Muggles looking as pregnant as I do.”

“We need to talk with Matthew, alone, tonight. And then probably him and James together.”

“Yeah, I—“ Harry pauses as footsteps come down the stairs. James and Matthew turn into the kitchen, hand in hand. They both still look like they’ve been crying, but they also look rather sated, and Harry isn’t quite sure he wants to know how they’ve worked off their feelings to get to that state. 

“Are you hungry?” Draco gestures to the counter. “There’s plenty.”

Both boys move to fill a plate. 

“James, why don’t you join the others in the living room for a few minutes. We want to have a discussion with Matthew, and then with both of you.”

Matthew looks terrified but James smiles at him reassuringly. “That works.”

The young man seated at the side of the table looks lost and scared, and Harry hates that Matthew feels this uncertain. 

“We have a few things to discuss,” Draco begins, “but first, I want you to know that you are welcome in this house; you are loved and valued and there is absolutely nothing you should be ashamed of in this situation. Your parents are responsible for their own actions and reactions. Not you.”

“Thank you,” Matthew says, quietly. 

“While you are here, however long that ends up being, we are going to give you your own room, your own space.” Harry watches Matthew’s eyes widen and his face pale, and he hurries to provide context. 

“We know you’ll probably keep sharing a bed with James — we’re not delusional — but we also want you to have your own space if you need to get away or be alone.”

Some colour returns to the boy’s face and he nods. “That would be good.”

“We also need to get a couple of things sorted out.” Matthew’s attention turns to Draco as he speaks. “Do you have a Gringotts vault?”

Matthew shakes his head. “No. My parents always just give me Muggle money and I exchange it for gold as I need it.”

“Okay. We’ll open a vault for you tomorrow. You’re sixteen, so you can open it with an adult signature. Mine should suffice.”

“I haven’t got anything to put in it.”

“We’ll put enough in to start it for you. Once we know more about long-term plans, we’ll make any changes needed.”

“Thank you.” Matthew looks near tears already. 

“I’ll also take you to Muggle London tomorrow and we’ll get your mobile put on our family’s plan.”

“I was worried about that. My parents said as long as I refuse to ‘behave appropriately’, I can forget about anything they do for me. They do pay my phone bill.”

“Well, that won’t be an issue after tomorrow.” Harry takes a breath. “I’d like to discuss more about what your parents said. Would you prefer to have James here for that.”

Matthew nods, and Harry calls James over. 

“Okay, son. Matthew is here for the remainder of these two weeks, at the very least. He _will_ be getting his own room.” James pulls a face, and Harry shakes his head. “I know you’ll probably continue to share a bed. We just want him to have his own space if he needs some time to himself.” 

James’ face loses its scowl, and he nods silently before turning his attention to Draco as he picks up where Harry left off. 

“I will take him to London tomorrow and get a vault started for him and move his mobile to our plan. That should keep him protected from any revenge moves his parents may take.”

“Thank you.” James looks incredibly relieved at Draco’s words. 

“But now, let’s discuss a little more about what went on before we picked you up, Matthew.”

“Okay…”

“Why don’t you share what you’re comfortable with and we’ll ask for specifics if we need them.”

“I didn’t tell them I have a boyfriend or anything. I just told them I’m gay, that I am attracted to men and only men. They blew up. My dad told me that I’m disgusting. Mom said she blames the magical world for putting such awful ideas in my head. 

“I tried to explain that I’ve been attracted to boys since before Hogwarts, but she didn’t seem to care. She told me I was ungrateful for everything they did in raising me, and then told me if I was going to continue with this ‘lifestyle choice,’ I couldn’t stay in their home and I shouldn’t depend on anything from them.

“I think she thought that would get me to somehow decide to be straight. But I just went upstairs and called James.” He sighs. “I’m _not_ straight. I can’t make myself straight. And I’m happy with my sexuality and with James. I don’t want to change that.”

“Do you think they’ll come around?”

“Honestly, no. They’ve always made nasty comments about LGBTQIA+ issues. I can’t see them changing their minds.”

Harry’s heart breaks all over again as Matthew’s tears start anew. James pulls his boyfriend into his arms again, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Here’s what we’re thinking.” Draco speaks gently, waiting for Matthew to lift his head. “We’ll give your parents these two weeks of break to process this. Once you get back to Hogwarts, you can write and ask them if you have a place in their home _as you are, not_ as they want you to be.”

“Even if I do, I don’t think I can go back.”

“That will be part of this process, too. If they say you do, you can make that choice. If they say you don’t, we will have it in writing and that will make the next part easier.”

“What’s after that, then?” James asks.

“If he doesn’t go back to his parents’ home, we would need to get some sort of legal guardianship of Matthew,” Draco explains “That way if there is an emergency or you need medical attention, or there’s any other issue, we can be contacted and spoken to as if we were your parents. We’re going to contact our solicitor about how it would work.”

Harry nods in agreement with Draco. “And then you would stay here, Matthew, if that was your choice, or you could choose different arrangements. We will support you no matter what choice you make.” 

“I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else. Even if my parents tell me I can go back there, I don’t want to. I’d rather be somewhere I can be comfortable being myself.”

“It will become less of an issue when you turn seventeen, but you’re welcome here until you finish Hogwarts and beyond.” Draco gives Matthew an encouraging smile. “We’ll cross all those bridges as we come to them.”

“You’d…you’ll really just _let me stay_? And help me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?” Harry assures him.

“We’ll figure it all out. And as much as we like you and James as a pair, this also isn’t tied to your relationship.” Draco looks from Matthew to James and back to Matthew again. “We don’t see it happening, but if you were to split up, our support of you continues. Your value isn’t tied to you as James’ boyfriend. It’s tied to you as a person.” 

Matthew is back to just openly letting his tears fall. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You’re welcome. And you don’t need to say anything else.”

* * *

“Dad?” James’ voice comes through the door. 

“Come in.” Harry is leaning against the headboard of the bed, Draco next to him, both reading. He shoots a look to Draco, who shrugs. It’s been four days since the kids got home and Matthew came to stay with them. Things finally seem to be settling into something resembling normalcy. 

James slips into the room and shuts the door before climbing onto the end of the bed. 

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” Harry sets his book aside, wraps his hands around the bottom of his belly, and rubs. 

“Is he moving?” James looks intrigued. 

“Not at the moment. I’m just getting some pain from starting to carry the weight out front. Just part of being pregnant.” Harry shrugs. “What’s on your mind?”

James glances between Harry and Draco and takes a breath. 

“I feel like Matthew’s falling out with his parents is kind of my fault.”

“Did you pressure him to come out?” Draco asks, voice carefully level.

“No. That was totally his decision.”

“Then how would it be your fault?” Harry is not following James’ train of thought. He watches his son’s face form into something resembling determination.

“Matthew decided he had to come out to his parents because we started having sex. He knew for sure after that there was no way he’d ever be with anyone other than a man and wanted to be able to be himself, even at home.” 

Harry feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He knew James was going to be having sex soon enough, but knowing it might be happening and having confirmation are two entirely different things. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to focus on the matter at hand, which is not the sex, but the aftermath. Draco seems to notice his struggle and helpfully takes the lead.

“Was everything consensual between you and Matthew?”

“Of course. We talked about it more than once beforehand. And it wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago. Right before I wrote to you.”

“And who talked about his coming out first?” Harry prods gently.

“He did,” James says firmly. “He asked me what I thought about doing it at Easter and I told him that if he wanted to do that, I would be there for him no matter how they reacted. We did talk together about the best way to do it and decided when he got home before he unpacked was best, just in case.”

“Then James, nothing that happened is your fault.” Draco is choosing his words carefully, Harry can tell, and he wonders how personal this is about to get. “Matthew is no more or less gay because you’ve had sex. And if his parents are bigoted against people who are gay, it wouldn’t have mattered when or how or why he came out. Their reaction would have been the same.”

Draco takes a moment and then continues, voice slightly halting. 

“When I came out as gay to my mother, I already knew I intended to marry a woman and father a child to continue our lineage. I was literally doing the ‘straight’ thing, even though Astoria and I both knew we would split amicably after I had a son. My mother still flew into a complete rage. Her reaction was no one’s fault but hers. The same goes for the McLellands. Their reaction is on them. Not you.”

Harry reaches over and takes Draco’s hand, squeezing gently. 

“He’s right, son. None of this is your fault.” Harry braces himself. “Why don’t you go get Matthew. I think we need to have a discussion of a personal nature.” 

James’ face goes red, knowing that he’s about to have a discussion about sex with his dad, his dad’s fiancé, and his boyfriend, but he nods. He disappears through the door and Harry immediately looks at Draco. 

“My son is having sex.”

“He is.”

“And his boyfriend is living with us.”

“He is.”

“And we are about to have a sex discussion with them.”

“We are.” 

“Fuck.”

“Yes.”

The door opens and James leads Matthew in by the hand, both of them settling on the bed. 

“Matthew, I’m sure you know we’re extremely open about sex and sexuality in this house.”

Matthew nods. “James has told me.”

“We’re also not nosy and we’re not going to pry.” Harry wants to make sure that is clear. “But, seeing as how you are both our responsibility, we want to make sure you are okay.”

Both boys nod. 

“So, first of all, do you have enough lube and condoms?” 

Matthew sputters and turns beet red. Clearly James, who merely blushes and nods, did not prepare him for the level of openness in the Potter household. Based on what Harry has learned about the McLellands, he’s not really surprised that Matthew isn’t used to a frank discussion about sex.

James finally speaks for both of them. “We’ll need more at some point, though.” 

“Before the end of the school year?” Draco asks. 

“Probably?” 

“I’ll make sure you have more of both before you go back. Do you need anything else for the bedroom?” 

Both boys shake their heads again, blushing furiously. “Not right now.” James hesitates and then pushes forward. ”I think when we turn seventeen, we’d like to be shown where to go look for our own bedroom needs.”

“We can certainly do that when the time comes. It would allow you more privacy and keep your father and I from knowing more than we’d rather.” Draco’s face looks exactly like Harry feels. He’d rather not know any more than he already does about his son’s bedroom preferences. “In the meantime, if there’s something you _do_ want, tell us. We want to make sure what you get is of good quality and safe.” 

“If you are having sex while you’re here, we should probably put a one-way silencing charm on your room. I don’t need your brother whining that he can hear you.” Harry can’t help but laugh at the look of mortification on both boys’ faces at the thought of being overheard by Albus. 

“You don’t care if we’re having sex here?” Matthew asks, seemingly disbelievingly. 

“We absolutely care.” Harry leaves no room for doubt in his tone. “But we care because if you’re having sex here or elsewhere, we want you to be safe and careful. And because we know that if we don’t want you to be having sex, it’s not going to somehow keep it from happening if that’s what you decide to do. Denial won’t keep the two of you safe.” 

Matthew nods slowly, seeming to understand. “It’s just not what I’m used to from parents.” 

“Well, perhaps that’s a good thing,” Draco drawls. Matthew laughs. 

“Maybe it is.” 

“But if either of you has questions about sex, or anything else, really, you can always come to us together or alone, ok?” Harry looks to both boys, who nod. “Good. Is there anything else you need tonight?” 

“I don’t think so.” James glances at Matthew for confirmation, who shakes his head. 

“Very well.” Draco turns to stand and pick up his wand. “Let me go spell your room, James, and then I think your dad and I are going to get some sleep.” 

Draco slips out the door as James and Matthew both slide off the bed and move to hug Harry. James gives Harry’s swollen belly a quick pat and smiles.

“Goodnight, boys,” Harry says.

They chorus their goodnights before following Draco out the door.

* * *

Harry surveys the room from where he’s curled up with Draco on the couch. Matthew and James are on the other couch, also wrapped up in each other as they watch the movie. Lily is sprawled in the overstuffed armchair, texting with Mina. Scorp and Al are laying on the floor, playing wizard’s chess. 

They’ll all head back to Hogwarts in two days’ time and Harry knows he’ll miss the noise and the life the five of them bring to the house. It really won’t be terribly long before they’re home for the summer, though. 

Harry shifts again against Draco. He can’t get comfortable. No matter how he lays, Regulus is pressing against something that shouldn’t be pressed against. He’s also very energetic, and Harry can clearly feel him moving around pretty much constantly. 

“You okay?” Draco murmurs in his ear. 

“No. You need to have words with your son; he won’t let me get comfortable. He’s determined to use my organs as pillows and punching bags.”

Draco chuckles softly and spreads a hand over Harry’s stomach. Regulus immediately gives the hand a good thump. Draco gasps and Harry grins. 

“Did you feel him?”

“I did.” Regulus rewards Draco’s rubbing with another kick. “He really is wound up in there tonight, isn’t he?”

Harry looks up to see five pairs of eyes fixed on him and Draco. 

“Is he moving, Dad?” Lily is practically vibrating with excitement. 

“He is. Come here.” 

Scrambling off her chair, Lily kneels beside her father. Harry takes her hand and places it where Draco’s hand was. Lily is immediately rewarded with a firm press against her hand. 

“Wow!” she gasps, eyes dancing. “That’s so cool!” 

Scorpius and Al shuffle over beside her, each taking a turn and receiving their own swift kicks and grinning in response. 

James approaches, and when he makes eye contact with him, Harry immediately knows that James is thinking that this could be him someday, pregnant and carrying the child of a man he loves. 

Harry takes James’ hand, squeezes lightly, and lays it against his belly. He urges his son to press lightly and when he does, the little boy inside him presses back out against his big brother’s hand. James’ grin is watery when Harry looks at his face. 

James keeps his hand in place and turns. “Babe, come here,” he beckons Matthew, who comes to his side. He takes his boyfriend’s hand and gently places it over the spot the baby has been kicking, putting his own hand on top and helping Matthew to press softly. 

There’s a responding kick and then the firm press of a foot. James presses his mouth to Matthew’s ear and Harry pretends not to overhear the whispered words, even though he does. 

“That could be me someday, with our child.”

Matthew pulls his hand from Harry’s belly and wraps James in his arms. Harry can’t hear the young man’s words, but he can hear James’ whispered reply. 

“Me, too.”

And while he is in no hurry to become a grandparent, he, too, hopes James and Matthew can find the same happiness he and Draco have found — someday, together or with someone else.


	20. Chapter 20

“Harry!” Draco’s voice drifts up the stairs. The man in question makes his way, slowly, to the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah?” He smiles down at Draco, who looks quite excited. 

“They’re just about done. They’ve just got to vanish the barriers and we can do a walkthrough.” 

In the three weeks since the kids returned to Hogwarts, Potter Cottage has been a flurry of activity. Draco brought in several magical contractors, and after seeing proposed plans and thorough interviews, he and Harry had selected a company to construct the addition to the house. Adding Matthew to the family, along with Regulus’ impending arrival, has rendered the already-spacious home too small. Six kids and two adults need more than five bedrooms and one communal living space. 

The addition was more than Harry had initially envisioned, but it would suit their family well. Downstairs, they’re adding a den for relaxing and entertaining — a combination of playroom and game room — another bathroom, a library, plus a new mudroom with extra storage. Upstairs, they had opted to add two more bathrooms and four more bedrooms, one of which will be set up as a “study” for the children for now, complete with a desk and workspace for each. 

The new bedroom closest to the master suite is to become Regulus’ room, and Harry is getting rather antsy to have a nursery ready for their son. At twenty-three weeks, he knows he’s approaching the time frame where most male pregnancies end up on bedrest, and he wants everything ready and settled in the new part of the house before that happens. 

He makes his way down the stairs and kisses Draco softly. 

“Does that mean we can go shopping for the nursery today?”

Draco laughs. “You just want out of the house.”

“That, too.” 

_Tap tap tap._

Both men turn towards the kitchen and spot Cupcake outside the French doors. 

“It seems Lily has written,” Harry smiles as Draco, being the non-pregnant one, swiftly moves to let the owl in. 

“You’re so much nicer than Woody,” he praises as she immediately lets him remove the parchment. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Harry takes the letter from Draco as he’s feeding Cupcake several owl treats. Unsealing the parchment, Harry looks down and frowns.

“This isn’t from Lily.”

“Oh?”

“It’s from Matthew. He’s heard back from his parents.” _Well, fuck._ _This is probably better absorbed seated._ Harry sighs and together, he and Draco move to the couch.

*

_Harry and Draco,_

_I finally heard back from my parents after almost two weeks. Lily is being kind enough to let me use Cupcake to send you a letter. I don’t really know how else to explain it to you, so I’ve just duplicated the letter and sent it for you to read._

_Love from,_

_Matthew_

*

Harry takes a deep breath and looks to Draco, making sure the other man has also finished reading the short note. 

“Are you ready for this?” 

“I’m not sure that I am, but let’s see it anyway,” Draco sighs.

Harry shuffles Matthew’s note under the second piece of paper and reads:

*

_Matthew,_

_This is a difficult letter to write, but entirely necessary given the circumstances._

_The lifestyle you have chosen is an abomination and we will not support someone who has made that choice. You are not welcome in this home, nor do we plan to visit you elsewhere. We do not anticipate future correspondence unless you have seen the error of your ways and are making better decisions._

_The magical world has clearly warped you and your sense of self. We did not raise you to behave in this manner. If you wish to continue this unnatural and sinful lifestyle, you should find a way to stay among those people. You will not receive support of any kind, including monetary, from us any longer._

_Sincerely,_

_Paul and Marci McLelland_

*

Harry’s heart is shattered for Matthew. His parents are clearly making no effort to be understanding or accepting. They’re simply…rejecting him. 

“The fuckers didn’t even sign it Mom and Dad,” Draco spits venomously as he shakes his head. “I’m not at all surprised; this is exactly the kind of thing they were saying when I went to pick him up. For some reason, I held out hope that they would calm down, but clearly I was mistaken.”

“So Matthew stays, indefinitely.”

“He stays,” Draco sighs. “I can see if Mr Stargell has time this afternoon. We need to get some kind of guardianship document.” 

“Why don’t you Floo-call and see? Maybe we can get that squared away today and then pay Minerva a visit later this week to make sure it’s all on file at Hogwarts. And we can check on Matthew at the same time.”

“We could take all the kids out to dinner one night, perhaps?”

“That would be excellent. I do miss them.” 

Draco moves to the fireplace, and Harry ducks into the study to send a quick reply.

*

_Matthew,_

_We’re very sorry that your parents are acting this way. Please try to remember that their reaction is their choice, not a reflection of you. You are, as we already discussed, welcome at our home indefinitely._

_Draco and I will be meeting with our solicitor to see if we can get some sort of guardianship paperwork. We are hoping he will have time this afternoon. We’ll Floo the Headmistress to arrange a visit once we have a better idea of what’s going on. We’re hoping to take all five of you out to dinner when we come._

_You are a wonderful young man. We are very proud of you and honoured to have you as part of our family._

_Love,_

_Harry and Draco_

*

He’s just heading to the owl perch to find Cupcake when Draco withdraws from the fire. 

“He can see us in an hour. He understands the urgency.” Draco stands and brushes himself off. 

“Oh, good. I just jotted a quick note to Matthew to let him know we are moving forward with guardianship plans and that we’ll be in touch with them once we know more.” 

“We should have enough time for our walkthrough, then we can head in. Did you want to go to Wand and Wood for nursery furniture? Or someplace more baby-oriented?”

“Let’s try Wand and Wood. We’ve had a lot of success there.”

* * *

Harry immediately flops onto the couch after they land at home late that afternoon. _What an exhausting day._ The meeting with the solicitor was easy enough, and the office was sending someone over to Matthew’s parents today to see if they’d sign the appropriate paperwork. They could do a contested guardianship, but it would take much longer. Mr Stargell had been hopeful they would sign, and he could send the paperwork over by the end of the day. 

The visit to Wand and Wood had been very fruitful, and there was a team coming to set up most of the furniture they’d picked for the new addition later in the week. They had decided to carry home the carefully shrunken and lightened furnishings for the nursery, though.

“Are you feeling up to doing the nursery now?” Draco asks as he sets their purchases on the coffee table. “Or would you like a nap first?” 

“No, I want to do the nursery. I just need a minute and I’ll be good.” Harry stretches out on the couch and closes his eyes. 

“Harry?” 

Someone is shaking him. He squints to see Draco standing over him. 

“Yeah?”

“Have a good nap?” Draco’s eyes are laughing at him. 

_Well, crap_. 

“How long was I out?”

“Almost two hours.” Draco shakes his head fondly. “And this just came.” He holds up several sheets of parchment. “We have guardianship of Matthew. His parents didn’t even protest, the arseholes.”

“Better than a fight, I suppose.” Harry pushes himself into a seated position. “Did you Floo Minerva?”

“I did. We can go tomorrow. She can meet with us at three, then we can take all five kids for dinner after class. She asks that we return them by curfew.” 

“Perfect. Nursery?”

“I already set the parcel from Wand and Wood up there. It’s ready when you are.” 

“Let’s go, then.” Draco tugs Harry’s hand, helping him up from the couch. Once he’s on his feet, Draco affectionately holds his bump on both sides. 

“What do you think, Regulus? Should your daddies get your nursery ready?”

Regulus answers with a press against Harry’s skin. He seems to know Draco and his voice.

Standing in the doorway to the nursery, Harry prepares the box that contains the painting charms. 

“Ready?” He smiles at Draco. 

“Absolutely.”

Harry releases the catch on the box and the paint flies before settling nearly around the top half of the room. The midnight blue goes beautifully with the white beadboard that covers the bottom part of the walls.

“Oh, that’s even better than I imagined it.” Harry can’t wipe the smile from his face.

Draco steps to the middle of the nursery and lifts his wand, complex movements and strings of Latin sending silver wisps of Magic dancing around the room before settling on the walls. All the constellations represented in their family now twinkle against that beautiful blue. He steps back to the door and both men survey his work.

“Perfect.” Harry curses his pregnancy hormones as his eyes well up. “It’s perfect.” 

Draco smiles and kisses him. He stoops to the box on the floor and Harry watches as he withdraws a tiny glider chair. Setting it on the floor, he resizes it and levitates it to sit next to the window. 

“You sit and give directions. I’ll do the work.” 

_How on earth did I ever get lucky enough to have someone like him_? Harry wonders as he eases into the glider to watch Draco unshrink the crib, changing table, and dresser, all in the same white as the beadboard.

It only takes an hour for the entirety of the nursery to be arranged and the massive stash of baby supplies to be put away or displayed. Harry, feet now elevated on the matching ottoman, looks over each detail; the silver stars on the mobile, the lamp shaped like a moon, the tiny blanket with stars that match the walls.

As wonderful as the room is, the man standing in it putting away the last of the clothes and blankets is even better. Harry can’t understand how someone as caring and protective and wonderful as Draco could be _his_. Love like this happens in fairy tales, not in real life with your former childhood nemesis. Still, here he is, with his fiancé and their unborn son and their big, beautiful, blended family. 

“It’s perfect.” _All of it._

Draco turns from sliding the last dresser drawer shut. “I agree. Can you believe we only have three months before we get to meet our son?”

“No. I really can’t. Some days it feels like I’ve been pregnant forever, but really, it’s all gone so fast.” Harry looks down at his belly. “I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have a child with you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Draco perches on the ottoman next to his feet. “There’s no way I could ever deserve what we have, but I'm so thankful I have it anyway. I can’t wait to meet our son, to marry you, to raise our family together.”

Harry leans forward, awkward over his belly, and draws Draco into a kiss. The soft moan from his fiancé shoots straight to his cock and the kiss takes a sudden turn from ‘aren't we so lucky?’ to ‘would you like to get lucky?’ Easing their lips apart, just enough to speak, Harry says, “Shall we take this to _our_ bedroom?” 

The answering look on Draco’s face is positively lascivious. 

“I think we shall.” 

Draco leads him by the hand into their bedroom, stopping Harry so he’s facing the mirror. Standing behind the pregnant man, Draco leans over to place a soft kiss behind his ear, hands moving to his collar. 

Staring intensely at the mirror, Harry watches each button of his shirt pop open under Draco’s skilful fingers. As the final button comes free of its hole, soft hands push his shirt open, putting his rounded belly on display. 

“Do you know,” Draco’s voice is gravelly in his ear, “how incredibly sexy you look carrying our son?”

“Mmm,” is the only answer Harry can manage, now painfully hard beneath his pants. Draco eases the shirt off his shoulders, placing kisses over his shoulder and down his back as the fabric is pulled away. 

The shirt falls to the floor and Draco’s hand roams over Harry’s swollen abdomen.

“Gorgeous.” Draco sucks gently at his neck. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Fingers dip into the waistband of Harry’s trousers, sliding under his belly and working them slowly down over his hips. Harry watches intently in the mirror as Draco sinks to his knees, helping Harry to step out of his trousers.

Putting himself between Harry and the mirror, Draco frees Harry’s straining erection from his pants. Kissing the tip, he slides the soft fabric free and returns to take Harry’s cock into this mouth. 

“Fuck, Draco!” Harry can’t help but cry out as Draco takes him in. Being pregnant has made the pleasure of Draco’s touch multiply, and this has set his body on fire. He wordlessly reaches out and feels the phial of lube meet his hand. Pressing it into one of the hands gripping his hips, he feels Draco chuckle around his cock. 

Draco obliges and pops open the phial. A hand disappears between Harry’s spread legs, and Harry moans as one of those familiar fingers breaches him. Slow and deep, finger and mouth matching pace, Draco begins to open him up. 

Reaching under his belly, Harry gently eases Draco’s mouth away from his cock. “Love, I’ll cum if you keep that up, and I’d rather do that when you’re inside me.”

Draco moans softly in reply. “Do you want to go over to the bed?” 

“Mmm, no. I want to watch.” 

“In that case…” Draco removes his finger and summons the wide chair in the corner of their room, putting it sideways to the mirror. After divesting himself of his clothing, he gently places Harry’s arms on the back of the chair and tugs Harry’s hips back before returning his finger to its previous task. 

Harry pillows his head on his arms, face to the mirror, and watches. Watches Draco’s finger disappear into his body. Watches one finger become two. Watches them scissor and stretch and press deeper. Watches Draco’s neglected cock twitch and leak.

“I’m ready,” he pants. “I want you.”

The noise Draco makes is something akin to a whimper as he slicks his cock and positions himself behind Harry. Harry murmurs a sticking charm on the chair as Draco’s blunt head presses against his hole. Pressing back, he stretches wide as the thick cock slides inside. 

Fuck, he’s never watched like this, watched Draco’s cock sink into his arse. He moans from both the feeling of being filled and from seeing it happen. Draco’s balls brush his arse and hands come around to hold his swollen belly. 

“Merlin, nothing beats being buried inside you while you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Harry knew Draco had developed a bit of a pregnancy kink, but he hasn’t watched his face like this since his abdomen had become so obviously round with child. 

Draco meets his eyes in the mirror and Harry moans at that look alone. The blond holds eye contact as he slowly pulls his cock nearly out of Harry’s body. He sets a slow, deep rhythm, never breaking their gaze.

“Faster, Draco. Please…” Harry is surprised at the desperation in his own voice. The hands on his belly grip more firmly, and the pace becomes more frantic. Canting his arse back, Harry pushes each of Draco’s thrusts against his prostate and he cries out. 

He stares at the mirror, his pregnant belly fat with the child of the man who is driving into him. He wraps a hand around his own cock and gasps as it only takes a few pulls before he’s spurting white ropes onto the chair, arse pulsating around Draco. 

Thrusts become erratic and Harry watches his fiancé’s mouth open in a silent scream as his cock jerks and spurts and fills him. The weight of Draco’s body against him grounds him as they both come down from their high. 

“I love you so much,” Draco murmurs into his ear. 

“I love you, too. And I’ll take that bed now.”

Lying in bed, Draco’s body pressed against him, Draco’s hand protectively splayed over his belly, Harry is pretty sure there’s nothing that would make him happier with this life he’s living now.


	21. Chapter 21

“Mr Potter, how are you feeling?” Healer Carr follows Draco into the bedroom where Harry is already laying in the bed, waiting. Draco sits in the chair they’ve moved next to Harry’s side of the bed and takes his hand.

“Quite huge. I’m also having a lot of hip pain and more of that pressure down low.” He shifts again under the blankets. “I’m having more trouble sleeping, as well, just because I can’t get comfortable. And when I do, this one decides to use my organs as trampolines. I’ve spent a few nights in the chair when nothing else works.”

“You’re twenty-nine weeks, so that sounds about right.” The Healer conjures her usual table and lays out her equipment. “I am a bit concerned about the hip pain and the increase in pressure, so let’s see what’s going on.” 

She begins casting her usual series of spells over Harry and making rapid notes on her parchment. 

“Well, nothing overly concerning, but your body is starting to feel some of the ramifications of supporting a pregnancy.” She moves to place hands over Harry’s womb, pressing gently and showing just a hint of a smile as Regulus pushes back. “Wizards don’t have hips to speak of, not like a witch does, so your body doesn’t have the ability to flex and give the baby a wider base of support. Your back and hips are doing what they need to do, but it’s a lot to ask of a body that wasn’t designed to carry.” 

Harry shifts again. “Is that what causes the pressure?” 

“It could be. Is the pressure more towards the front or the back of your pelvis?”

“Kind of in the middle.”

“Hmmm. Let’s check your canal, then. I want to make sure this little one isn’t trying to make an early exit.” She peels back the blankets and casts a relaxing charm. “Leg up for me, please.” 

Harry groans as he lifts a leg, but at this point, he doesn’t even care if the Healer sticks a whole hand in. He’s just uncomfortable and wants to know if Regulus is okay and if they can make the pain lessen. Healer Carr’s fingers press and twist inside, her other hand moving to apply pressure in various places. 

The look on her face is disconcerting and when Draco squeezes his hand, Harry knows he’s noticed as well. 

“Push gently for me, Mr Potter. Like you were having a bowel movement, until I tell you to stop, please.” 

Feeling incredibly awkward, Harry does as she asks.

“Ok, you can stop.” She withdraws her fingers. “Your membrane is still fully in place, but it is beginning to bulge. It’s quite normal in a male pregnancy, but we also don’t want to put any extra pressure on it, because we don’t want a premature birth.” 

“So how do we stop that?” Draco sounds alarmed.

“I am going to put you on modified bedrest, Mr Potter. You need to be reclining or laying down at all times. You can go to the loo and you can move between your bedroom and the living room. Otherwise, I’d prefer you not move around any more than necessary.” She glances from Harry to Draco and back again. “I’m also going to advise that you not have any vigorous anal penetration. No anal sex, nothing larger than three fingers. Anything smaller is ok for now, including toys that vibrate. If you have pain or unusual discharge, stop immediately and call me.” 

Harry nods and is suddenly even more grateful for the good, hard shag they had in the shower that morning. “What about orgasm?” 

“Orgasms are safe, provided they’re given in a manner that coincides with the other guidelines. The male womb doesn’t contract as the uterus does with the hormones associated with climax.”

 _Well, that’s a relief at least_.

Since the sex in front of the mirror, both Harry and Draco had been nearly insatiable. Any time Harry has been comfortably enough, they’ve been finding every position a heavily pregnant man can be in for penetration.

“But they’re still both okay?” Draco’s concern hasn’t abated much. 

“This is typical in male pregnancy. He only has nine more weeks; the baby is growing and running out of space. If he makes it to thirty-three weeks, which is the equivalent to thirty-five in a witch’s pregnancy, we won’t stop labour if it starts. But your little boy really needs these next four weeks for lung development and growth, so I’d rather take precautions.”

“Absolutely,” Draco nods, clearly on board. “I am on leave from work starting Friday for the summer, and the kids will all be home from Hogwarts, so there will be plenty of hands to help him stay reclining.” 

Harry knows once Draco recruits the children, he won’t be able to get up unless he has a good reason. Sitting idle has never been his strong suit. This is going to be a long nine weeks.

“Can I go outside?” Harry fears he might go stir crazy if he can’t get out in the sunshine at all.

“You may, provided you can recline or lay down.” 

“I’ll order you a new patio chair that can do both, love.” Draco squeezes his hand. 

“Thank you. That might be my saving grace.” He shrugs at the Healer. “Being still and doing nothing has never been a particular strength of mine.”

Draco snorts. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Harry shoots him a look and they both laugh. “Is there anything I can do for the pain and discomfort?”

“You should see some of it abate when you’re spending more time laying down and reclining. You can also use some of the mild pain potions in the Pregnancy Potions Manual I gave Mr Malfoy. No more than four doses a day.”

“I’ll brew him some. It only takes a couple of hours.” Draco seems thankful to have something he can actually _do_ to help. Harry knows that his fiancé is struggling watching him uncomfortable and being unable to help. It’s gotten progressively worse over the last week or so, and they’ve both found that Draco doesn’t deal well with Harry in pain.

“I will start seeing you every week from here on out.” She waves her wand and packs her bag. “If we make it four more weeks, I'll be very pleased, though I would prefer you make it all the way to thirty-eight. I see no reason you won’t, provided you take the discussed precautions.”

Draco chuckles softly. “Do be warned that starting next week, this house will resemble a circus. We have five kids coming home from Hogwarts, and it’s never quiet when they are home.” Draco shakes his head. “It’s loud and a bit rambunctious most of the time.”

“I have no problem with that,” Healer Carr winks at them. “I have nine children of my own.” She lifts her bag. “I’ll see you next Thursday, gentlemen. I can see myself out.”

“Thank you, Healer.” Draco escorts her as far as the bedroom door, closing it behind her. 

“I suppose this means I don’t get to go with you to pick up the children,” Harry sighs. 

“You absolutely do not!” Draco sinks back into the chair. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know it’s going to be hard for you.” 

“For you, too,” Harry teases. “No more sex.”

“We’ll manage. At least we can do other things.” Draco leans over to kiss him on the cheek. 

“It’ll all be worth it.” Harry rubs his belly and then pokes softly, smiling when their son responds in kind. “Regulus is our bright little star, and he’s worth all the discomfort and bedrest in the world.” 

“I’m going to go start a brew of that pregnancy-safe pain potion for you. Why don’t you have a nap and by the time you wake up, it should be about done?” 

“That sounds great. Would you hand me my mobile first, though? I’m going to text Hermione and ask if she can up the ante on her book and DVD game for the next several weeks. I’m going to lose my mind if she doesn’t.” 

“Of course, love.” Draco retrieves his mobile from the dresser and kisses him quickly. “Have a good nap. I’ll come down with a dose as soon as it’s done. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

“Daddy!!!” Lily immediately dashes for her dad when she and Draco appear in the living room. Draco smiles as Harry wraps his arms around his daughter. 

“Going back for the others?” Harry looks over to Draco, who nods.

“Yes. Hermione’s with them. She’ll bring Al and Scorp and I’ll bring the older two.” 

“Good deal.” Harry turns his attention to Lily as Draco Apparates away. “How was the end of your first year, Lil?”

“Brilliant! I told Mina I would see if she can come visit. She wants me to come to her house again, too!” She squeezes next to Harry in the recliner and snuggles into his chest. “I’m really glad to be home.”

“I’m glad to have you home. And we’ll figure out how you can see Mina. Draco will have to take you, though. Or Aunt Hermione.”

Two loud cracks announce the arrival of the other four children. Draco and Hermione both smile as Harry accepts hugs from each of them from his new recliner. 

“How are you feeling, Dad?” Albus asks as he withdraws from their hug. 

“I’m actually feeling pretty good. Less pain after a couple of days taking it easy.”

“Good!” Al smiles. 

“Go on and get your trunks to your rooms! Then I want to hear all about the end of term. Especially from you two!” Harry gestures at Matthew and James, who have just completed their O.W.L.s.

Hermione lifts her beaded bag, which Harry is sure contains all their shrunken and lightened trunks. 

“Come on, all five of you. I’ll help.”

“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry smiles at her and she nods, following the children up the stairs. He looks back at Draco, who seems a little harried. 

“Everything okay at the platform?”

Draco shrugs. “It was fine. Crowded. Got some strange looks having Hermione with me instead of you. We’ll see if the Prophet chooses to speculate wildly,”

“I’m sure you’ve abandoned poor pregnant me for my best friend,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. 

“That was my bet. Hermione hypothesised they’ll say we’ve added her to our relationship and are now a triad.”

Harry snorts. Hermione is, and has been since age eleven, like his sister. The thought of anything romantic with her is simply off-putting. “That one’s even worse.”

“Agreed. They’re also delusional if they think I’d share.”

Harry laughs. Even before he was pregnant, Draco was incredibly protective and more than a little jealous of anyone else who tried to win his affections.

Footsteps on the stairs announce Hermione’s return. 

“Well, I heard we’ve become a triad,” Harry teases. 

Hermione’s laugh fills the room. “Of course.” She stoops to hug Harry briefly. “I told Draco they’re sure to come up with something sordid.”

“They always do.” 

“I unshrank the trunks and levitated them to everyone’s room. Told them to put things away before they came back down.”

“Thank you,” Harry sighs. “I feel a bit useless lying about all the time, but between that and the potion Draco brewed, I am at least more comfortable.”

“You’re pregnant,” Draco admonishes gently. “You’re growing our son. That’s the furthest thing from useless I can think of.”

“He’s right, Harry,” Hermione has her information-delivering face on. “Pregnancy taxes a witch’s body as much as doing high-endurance sports every day. It’s even more demanding on a wizard’s body. And it taxes your magic on top of your physical self. It’s quite fascinating.”

“I know it’s a worthwhile endeavour. It doesn’t mean I enjoy lying around.” 

“That I can understand.” Hermione delivers a Draco-worthy smirk. “You never were one to let the chance for action go by.”

Draco gives an undignified snort and the three of them burst out laughing.

* * *

Harry isn’t at all surprised by the knock on his bedroom door later that night. 

“Come in!”

James and Matthew pile on the foot of the bed, looking expectantly at Harry and Draco. 

“Can we help you two with something?” Draco smiles easily at them both. 

“We would appreciate your help with some silencing spells again, but really we just wanted to talk,” James answers for both of them. 

“I’ll be happy to do that for you. What’s on your mind?”

Matthew gives James a meaningful look. He’s apparently the one who has been chosen to broach the subject first. 

“Can we talk about post-Hogwarts?” 

“We certainly can. But you’ve got two more years before that’s a reality,” Harry reminds them. 

“We know. But we’re thinking about University.” Matthew appears hesitant but then goes on. “I’ve always wanted to go for law. I’d like to be a prosecutor, I think.”

“That’s an excellent aspiration, Matthew,” Draco smiles. Harry knows that Draco initially wanted to go into law, as well. Unfortunately, no one would accept him given his past, and he had to choose a different goal. He’s fulfilled now with his potions career, but Harry suspects he sees a lot of himself in Matthew and is eager to support him. 

“I’m still trying to decide exactly what I want to do, but I know I want to work with LGBTQIA+ kids.” James’ voice holds a lot of conviction and Harry is pleased that his son seems to be developing some focus in his goals at sixteen. He certainly wasn’t able to do that. “I want to be a counsellor or provide some kind of centre for them to be around other kids like them and get support — or even a place to live if they have parents like Matthew’s.” 

Harry nearly bursts with pride. He has always told his children they have lived a privileged upbringing despite losing their mother. James seems to recognise that and has a desire to make a difference. For all he tries to hide it, he has a very sensitive soul.

Draco nods appreciatively. “You’d do well with some advanced study in psychology then, or possibly Healer training if you’re thinking of becoming a Mind Healer.” 

“Yes. And we are both fairly certain we did well on our O.W.L.s. But if we want to study at the university level, we need to take some pretty stringent N.E.W.T.s.” James glances at Matthew. “I’m less worried about him, he’s brilliant, but I may need some extra help in Arithmancy. Maybe Herbology, too.”

“We can secure tutoring if you’d like, James, but I’d be happy to help you study this summer. I’m certain your Aunt Hermione would, as well.” Draco smiles. “You do realise we were the top two in our year at Hogwarts, yes?”

James’ eyes widen. “I knew Aunt Hermione was wicked smart, but I didn’t realise you were, too. No offence!”

“None taken,” Draco laughs, “but I am sure between the two of us we can help you feel better about your skills.”

“That would be fantastic!” James nods. 

“My concern is about tuition.” Matthew is staring at the bedcovers, obviously uncomfortable. “I’d like to get a job this summer so I can start saving, but I’m not sure two summers worth of work will be enough. I might have to take a gap year to work and save more.”

“Matthew. Look at me.” The young man looks up to meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry holds his gaze for a moment with a serious expression, wanting to make sure his point is infinitely clear. “You are certainly welcome to get a job if that’s what you want to do. But if you or James, or both, achieve the necessary grades and entrance scores, Draco and I will be covering your tuition.”

Matthew’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. 

“And your housing. And your living expenses,” Draco adds. “Same for Albus and Scorpius and Lily. And Regulus, when he’s old enough. Provided, of course, that you all work to your potential in the chosen course of study.”

“But…” Matthew appears gobsmacked. 

“When we promised you we would take care of you, we meant just like all our other children,” Harry clarifies. “That includes university studies if that’s what you choose to do.”

Matthew’s tears are falling by this point. “I really thought you meant you’d just get me through Hogwarts. That’s so much already.”

Harry is angry all over again at Matthew’s parents. He seems so conditioned to feel like he has to earn love, like he’s a burden that must be borne, instead of a child — a person — worthy of love. Harry, more than anyone, understands feeling unloved and unvalued as a child over something he had no control over. He doesn’t want that for Matthew.

When Draco speaks, his voice thick with emotion, Harry knows he must be feeling the same way.

“You cannot earn your way into this family, Matthew. You’ve been chosen. You also cannot do anything to be removed from it, save your own personal choice to leave. And even if you did that, you would still be loved and welcome if you chose to return.” 

And then Matthew is between them and they’re hugging him from either side. Harry looks at James, who is crying silently at the end of the bed but smiling through his tears.

* * *

“You know, a year ago, if someone had described our life to me, I would have thought they’d completely lost the plot,” Harry says as he scoots towards Draco. A happy moan escapes his lips as Draco moulds his body to Harry’s back and holds him close. Outside their bedroom, he hears the noise of all five kids moving around the house. It’s never quiet when they are home, but it makes the house seem alive to have them all there. The two days since they returned from Hogwarts have been wonderfully chaotic.

“I would have laughed. But I would never choose anything different. Our life is wonderful. Baby and bonus kids and engagement and love. What more could I want?” Draco’s mouth finds the place just behind Harry’s ear that makes him moan.

“Dad! Draco!” Lily sounds a bit frantic as she knocks and yells through the door. 

“For our children to think we are still napping. That’s what.” Harry mutters. He sighs before calling out. “Yes, Lil?”

“There’s a gigantic owl down here and it won’t let any of us take the letter. It’s mean! It bit James and he’s bleeding!”

“Oh, bloody hell.” Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’ll be Euripides.”

“Who?” Harry asks, confused. 

“My mother’s owl.” He raises his voice. “Leave him, Lil. I’ll be right down. He’ll bite your finger off if the letter isn’t for you.”

“I didn’t know you’d written your mother.” Harry really isn’t sure how to feel about this piece of information. Draco is completely entitled to write to his mother if he chooses, but as far as Harry knows, they haven’t been in contact.

“I haven’t. Not in several years.” Draco sighs heavily and climbs out of bed.

“Oh.” Well, at least he wasn’t wrong about the contact thing. Although, Draco’s words still leave more questions than answers. “I wonder what she wants, then.”

“It can only mean one thing.” Draco tugs on his trousers and looks at Harry. His face is some strange combination of sad, resigned, and angry. It’s a strange look on him, and Harry doesn’t know how to help. “The gossip has reached France and she knows about us — and possibly Regulus. I’m sure she’s going to tell me what a disappointment I am. Again.”

“Well she can fuck right off,” Harry spits waspishly. 

“That’s exactly what I’ll tell her, too,” Draco grins wryly, “but in properly posh pure-blood terms. Let me go get rid of Euripides, and I’ll bring the letter back up here.” 

He bends and kisses Harry before leaving the room. When footsteps descend the stairs, Harry manoeuvres his swollen body to an upright position, leaning against the headboard, before pressing his glasses to his face. 

Though Draco seems sure that Narcissa will disapprove of them, Harry still hopes somewhere deep inside that she might eventually accept her son and his future husband, and maybe even their son. He can’t imagine ever rejecting any of their children the way she and the McLellands have rejected their sons. Draco is clearly happy with their life, and so is he, but he suspects his fiancé would be glad for his mother’s approval, should she offer it. 

The door opens and Draco slips back into their bed, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple. 

“James is all patched up. Evil bird is gone. That animal will never change. He’s going on thirty and still horrible.” 

“Is that a benefit or a liability for your mother?”

“A benefit, I’m afraid.” Draco pops open the wax seal on the thick parchment scroll and unfurls it between them.

*

_Draco,_

_I have received word regarding your current relationship._

_It was bad enough when you openly proclaimed your proclivities, but choosing to publicly act upon them with a prominent figure means the Malfoy name will be further disgraced. It is shameful, and if you place any value on your heritage and your blood, you will cease this foolishness immediately._

_Openly flaunting your unnaturalness with someone who brazenly opposes the superiority of those of pure blood is a grievous transgression. Had this occurred before your father’s passing, you would have been removed from the estate forthwith. It is a shame such actions are no longer feasible._

_You bring shame upon the noble house of Malfoy. You are desecrating one of the remaining Sacred Twenty-Eight. I implore you to reconsider your actions._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

*

“Well, evidently she doesn’t know you’re pregnant yet.” Draco gives a devilish chuckle. “Perhaps I shall write back and let her know.”

“What does she mean about removing you from the estate?” 

“When my father died, she was given the widow’s vaults — which is more than enough for her to live three lifetimes on — and the Manor and family vaults went to me as the new Head of the House of Malfoy.” Harry nods, already having known this much. “But if I had entered a relationship with a man before he died, my father could have removed me from the estate. Basically, he would have completely kicked me out of the family, like I never existed, meaning my mother would have gotten all the vaults to do with as she pleased. My mother has no power to do anything now, as I am already the Head of House.

“So it was okay when you were gay, but not in a relationship with a man?” Pure-blood ‘rules’ make no sense to Harry, even now.

“Of course. There’s documented evidence of gay men in most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The important thing is that you marry a pure-blood woman and produce an heir.” Distaste becomes evident on Draco’s face. “What you do discreetly on the side can be overlooked. Even the straight men have mistresses.”

“But you did marry and have a son.”

“I did, but then I divorced my wife and continued to live as openly gay, which evidently was reasonably acceptable, or at least acceptable enough not to cause the social drama of disowning me.” Draco rolls his eyes. “I’m assuming the most unacceptable part of my current relationship is that it’s with you.” 

“So she just expects you to break things off with me because of her sense of family…honour?” Harry knows Draco doesn’t ascribe to pure-blood ideals at all anymore, but the fact that this ever would have been an expectation is mind-boggling. 

“Yes. Traditionally, a son would do as his mother requested out of respect for family honour.” Draco sets the letter aside and slides his arms around Harry. “She’s got a bit of a problem, there, though. I don’t give a shite about pure-blood honour, and I intend to be with you for the rest of my days.” 

“Are you going to tell her that?” Harry cuddles closer to Draco. He doesn’t doubt Draco or his commitment, but it is always nice to hear it affirmed out loud.

“Provided you don’t object, I’ll write her back and tell her, politely, to fuck off.” Draco pauses thoughtfully. “I’ll also tell her about Regulus if you’re not opposed.” 

“I trust you to do what you feel is right for our family in regards to her.” Harry has no clue how to best handle Narcissa Malfoy, so he’ll leave that to Draco. All in all, she is a non-issue for them and their future. Even if she could take Draco’s vaults, it still wouldn’t deter them. 

“I’ll write to her some time this week then. I’ll let her know we are very much in love and happy and thrilled to be expecting our sixth child.” Draco’s hands find their way to Harry’s belly, caressing the place where their son lies. “I’ll also tell her that her opinions are not needed or wanted, and that she can kindly keep them to herself in the future. We can ward against her letters if she doesn’t get the message.” 

“That works. In the meantime, I don’t suppose we can go back to what we were doing before that letter arrived?” While he can’t have Draco the way he’d prefer, Harry had very much been looking forward to as much as they could do. 

“Of course we can.” Draco helps Harry to ease back down into the bed, connecting his mouth to that magic spot behind his ear once more.


	22. Chapter 22

“Draco?”

“Yes, love?” Draco pokes a finger gently into Harry’s belly again and Regulus kicks back. This is their father and son game, and it never fails to delight both daddies when their son responds. 

They’re stretched out on the patio, enjoying the sunshine while all five children zip around the Quidditch pitch on their brooms. Having been on bedrest for six weeks, Harry is more than a bit restless and has taken to spending as much time as possible outdoors. However, something more than being shut indoors has been on his mind on an increasing basis, and he can no longer keep it to himself. 

“I want to be married before Regulus is born.”

Draco’s hands freeze.

“Harry. You’re due in _three weeks_.” Disbelief laces the statement.

“I know.” Harry shakes his head. At thirty-five weeks pregnant, no one is more aware than him of how much longer he has to go. 

“That’s really not enough time to plan a wedding.” 

“We can have a big wedding or a party to celebrate later if we want to,” Harry shrugs. That part really isn’t important to him. What he cares about is being bonded, eternally, to the man next to him. “But I want to have this baby with you as my bonded husband.”

“You really want to get married? Before our son is born?” Draco sounds less incredulous now and more…anticipatory, perhaps?

“Yes. Something simple.” Harry has no energy for anything ornate, and that part has never been important to him. He and Draco are just not fancy. For one being (unwillingly) famous and the other being brought up with only the best, they really are a very down-to-earth couple. “Just us and the kids, Hermione, Blaise if you’d like. I’m sure Minerva will perform the bonding ritual if we ask her.”

“What brought this on?” There’s a small, pleased smile on Draco’s face now, as well as in his voice. Harry’s pretty sure he’s been thinking about the same thing and just hasn’t brought it up.

“It’s been on my mind, and I thought that urge would go away, but instead it just keeps getting stronger.” He kisses those perfect pink lips softly. “I love you. I want to be bonded to you before Regulus is born. I want to be your husband when I birth our son.”

“I think that sounds wonderful.” Draco kisses him back. “When were you thinking?”

“This weekend? Saturday evening maybe?”

“That gives us three days. I’m sure we can get some wedding robes tailored by then.”

“I’m sure Hermione will help decorate a little place out here in the garden. Maybe an arch and some flowers.” 

Draco’s face breaks into a bright grin. “We’re getting married, Harry.” 

He laughs. “We’ve been engaged for over seven months, Draco.” 

“I know. But this is different.” 

“It is. Help me up? I need to Floo Minerva and see if she’s free Saturday. And probably call Hermione.”

“I’ll help you up, but you’re not getting down on the hearth, Harry. I’ll Floo Minerva. You text Hermione and have her come over. I want to see her face when you tell her.”

Harry laughs and leans heavily on Draco, who helps heave his burgeoning body to an upright position. “Very well. I’ll text her.” 

Draco wraps an arm around Harry and offers his support as they shuffle inside. Once he is settled in the recliner, Draco kneels in front of the fireplace and Harry taps on his phone.

_Sent: Can you come by? Draco and I need your help._

**Received: Of course. Give me a moment to change, I just got home from work.**

_Sent: Wonderful. Apparate, Draco’s in the Floo._

**Received: Be there in a few!**

Hermione appears in the living room just as Draco is withdrawing from the fire. He looks to Harry and nods, indicating that Minerva is, indeed, free for Saturday. 

After hugging both men, Hermione settles on the couch and looks at them both expectantly. Draco balances on the arm of Harry’s recliner, lacing their fingers together. 

“So, what assistance do you require?”

“We’re getting married,” Harry states, trying to keep his face straight.

“I know _that_. You’ve been engaged since New Years!”

Draco chuckles. “What he means is: We’re getting married Saturday.”

“This Saturday?” Her brow is furrowed.

“Yes,” Draco confirms, ”we want to be married before Regulus is born.”

“ _This_ Saturday? Like, four days from now?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh my.” Hermione manages to somehow look overjoyed and overwhelmed all at once. 

“Nothing fancy,” Harry clarifies. “Just a ceremony here Saturday evening. Minerva has agreed to perform the bonding ritual. We’ll have some robes tailored. We were hoping you’d help decorate a spot in the garden?”

“Of course!” Hermione’s grin lights up her face. “Oh, this is exciting! What do the kids think?”

“We’ll find out when they come in off the pitch. We only decided on this about fifteen minutes ago.” Draco shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Harry just sort of blurted it out while we were on the patio. Guess that’s what I get for marrying a Gryffindor.” 

Harry squeezes Draco’s hand before looking back to Hermione. “I want to birth our son as Draco’s husband.”

“And so you shall.” Hermione looks at Harry fondly. “We should make a list of what needs to be done. I can even take the rest of the week off work if you’d like. I have almost five months of vacation time backlogged. They can allow me a few days.” 

By the time Hermione heads home that evening, there’s a tailor coming in the morning with a selection of robes, early afternoon has a jeweller scheduled to pick out wedding bands, and there’s a rough sketch done of the arch under which they will be married, which Hermione is taking care of. The younger kids have taken on the task of tidying up the garden, and James and Matthew have volunteered to contact several photographers so they can have pictures.

Harry is reclining in bed, waiting for Draco to return from talking to Scorpius who had requested a moment alone with his father. The parchment he’s holding is full of Hermione’s tidy handwriting with names and notes scratched alongside tasks in his messy scrawl or Draco’s angular script. They’re _really_ doing this. By Saturday night, he will be married again — bonded this time. 

He hadn’t felt the desire to be bonded to Ginny, to have their souls and their magic mingled together, and Ginny hadn’t either — they’d done a traditional wedding with a handfasting and vows instead. But with Draco, Harry wants every bit of himself entwined with the man he loves so very much. He wants Draco’s magic to pulse in his veins and _his_ to course through Draco’s. He wants to be bonded to him in every possible manner.

The bedroom door opens and admits not only Draco, but Scorpius. 

“Scorp has something he’d like to discuss with you.”

Harry pats the bed. “Come on and sit, Scorp. What’s on your mind?”

Scorpius and Draco both fold their long, lanky bodies onto the bed and Harry smiles, wondering if Regulus will take after his father and brother in height. 

“I’ve already talked to Dad about this because I wanted to make sure it was all right with him first, and I didn’t know what you two had been discussing, but this is something that I’ve been thinking about, and that I’ve wanted to talk to you both about for a while, and I’ve been putting it off, but now you’re getting married on Saturday so I can’t really wait any longer and—”

“Scorpius!” Harry interrupts. “Breathe! Can you at least tell me what _it_ is?”

The young man takes a deep breath and looks at Harry with grey eyes, so much like Draco’s. 

“I want to be a Potter,” he blurts and looks at Draco, who nods encouragingly. “I want both of us — all of us — to be Potters. We should leave the Malfoy name and the awful things it stood for where they all belong — in the past.”

Harry looks to Draco, whose eyes are tear-filled eyes like his own, and the blond nods. “I had planned to talk to you tonight about taking your name. Scorp had his part of the idea on his own, though.” 

“I would be absolutely honoured to have you as a Potter, Scorpius.” Harry’s voice is far more hoarse than he anticipated. He smiles impishly at Draco. “I suppose I’ll have you, as well.”

“You’d better,” Draco grins back.

“C'mere, Scorp.” Harry opens his arms and Scorpius obligingly fills them as Harry murmurs in his ear. “I love you, son. I would love you if you stayed a Malfoy, but I can’t tell you how special it will be to have you as a Potter.”

Scorpius’ only response is a hiccough and a sob. Rubbing his back gently, Harry looks to Draco. “Do you suppose we should tell the others?” 

Draco nods and goes to round up the other children. Within a few minutes, Harry and Draco’s bed is barely big enough. Matthew is sitting, legs outstretched, with James between them leaning on his chest. Lily is lying with her head on one of Matthew’s thighs. Albus is sitting between Draco and Harry, facing Scorpius, who is leaning up against the headboard between them. 

“Is something wrong?” Al speaks up first. “Has Scorp been crying?” 

“He has, but nothing is wrong,” Harry smiles. “He had something important to discuss with me, and he’d like to share it with the rest of you. Go on, Scorp.”

“At the wedding Saturday, my dad is going to take your name. He’ll become a Potter. And we’re going to sign the paperwork so that I can, too.” 

“So we’ll all be Potters?” Al asks excitedly. 

“Except Matthew! Can he be a Potter?” Lily supplies. Harry looks at Matthew. Matthew would be welcome to change his name as well, but he’s not sure that’s what the young man will want to do. To Harry’s surprise, James speaks, not Matthew. 

“I’d prefer to make Matthew a Potter myself in a few years, Lil.” He tips his head back to kiss Matthew’s jaw quickly. 

“That suits me just fine.” Matthew smiles at James. Harry knows they’re only sixteen, but he really does hope their happiness lasts. They seem very much in love and in a mature relationship.

“Are you all okay with that?” Scorpius asks. 

“Of course we are!” James laughs. “Did you think we’d be upset?” 

“Honestly, I wasn’t really sure.” the young blond shrugs.

“You’re already our brother,” Al assures him. “It’ll be great to have you as a Potter, too.” 

“I just want the Malfoy name and everything it stands for to be left in the past. We — our whole family — we’re better than that.”

* * *

“Snargaluff Pods.”

“Looks like an ugly tree stump. Has thorn-covered vines hidden inside. Never handle alone, always with two or more people. Pulsating pods are about the size of a grapefruit.”

“Excellent. Fluxweed.”

“Member of the mustard family. Used in Polyjuice, but only if you pick it at the full moon.”

“Exactly. Sneezewort.”

“Inflames the brain, perennial, flowering plant, the flowers are white.”

“Perfect. James, you know all of this and you know it very well. You should be proud of yourself.” Harry’s certainly proud of his son and how hard he’s worked this summer. Both Draco and Hermione had taken to tutoring him and neither had gone easy on him.

A knock at the bedroom door startles them both, but a quick glance at the clock tells Harry that his afternoon has gone quicker than he realised. James had come to keep him company while he laid down, and it had turned into a study session. 

“Come in!” 

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter!” Healer Carr bustles in and begins her usual set up. “How are you feeling?”

“Absolutely gigantic,” Harry quips. 

“Well, you’re 35 weeks pregnant, so that’s to be expected. How’s the pain?” 

“Still better. I hate the bedrest, but it’s helped. James, will you call for Draco, please? He’s in the study.” James shifts to go find Draco but pauses when the man in question comes through the door.

“No, I’m not. I’m right here.” Draco heads for his usual chair beside Harry, pausing to help Harry undress beneath the blankets.

“Can I stay, dad?” James asks softly. “I’d like to know what this is like. It’ll be me someday, I hope.” 

“I’m fine with it as long as Healer Carr doesn’t mind.” Harry looks to the Healer and nods. 

“I don’t mind. You’re known to be a carrier, aren’t you, James?”

“I am. And my boyfriend and I hope to have children someday.”

“Then you’ll be here eventually yourself.” 

“I hope so. We’re only sixteen, so it’ll be five or six years.”

Healer Carr nods and begins her usual casting. “I’ll explain as I go, then, James. And you can ask questions so long as your dad is okay with that.”

“Absolutely,” Harry nods. “We’re very open about pretty much everything in this family, so if James wants to learn, that’s fine.”

“Okay, so the spells that are running are checking your dad’s blood pressure and heart rate, the baby’s heart rate, and both of their stress levels.” She points out each spell and notates the results on her parchment. “Everything here looks well, and I’m pleased that your blood pressure is still down. The stress on your body remains lower, Mr Potter, so that’s also good.”

“That’s good. I’ve felt better this week even without pain potion.” Harry is always relieved when the way he’s feeling matches the testing.

“James, how familiar are you with male pregnancy.” 

“I’m pretty familiar now. Dad gave me several of the books Aunt Hermione got him to read when he first found out he was pregnant.”

“So you’re familiar with how a wizard will birth?”

“Yes. The womb builds a temporary connection to the rectum and then birth is much like it would be with a witch.” James sounds like he’s quoting directly from the book and Harry finds it terrifying reminiscent of Hermione. 

“You’ve got a bright son,” Healer Carr smiles at Harry. 

“We do.” Draco’s voice is full of pride as Healer Carr turns to him. “He’s incredibly bright. What he’s not telling you is that he’s considering Healer Training after Hogwarts, so he’s also very interested in the subject matter.” The more Draco has worked with James this summer, the more he’s encouraged James to study Healing and specialise in Mind Healing if that’s what he wants to do. Draco is convinced James’ only academic issue is a lack of confidence in himself.

“So—” Healer Carr conjures a thin sheet and suspends it vertically just below Harry’s belly, shielding him from James’ view before adjusting the blankets. “—what I’m going to do now is check the canal. Your dad’s has formed well; we’re just making sure the membrane is still in place and checking to see how thick it is. I expect it will be thinning soon if it hasn’t already. Knee up, please, Mr Potter.”

Harry shifts uncomfortably to lift a knee. This is getting harder the further along he is.

“I’ve put lubrication gel on two fingers of my gloved hand—” she lifts them to show James. “—and I’ve cast a relaxing charm to make it more comfortable. I’ll slide my fingers in with the pads of my fingers facing up.”

James is nodding in understanding. “Because the womb forms between the back of the stomach and the rectum, right?” 

“Exactly.” She slides her fingers in and continues. “Since the canal is already formed, all I’m doing at this point is looking for the membrane. It’s about the size of a Galleon and it feels a lot like really solid jelly. I use my outside hand to put pressure on the womb in the direction of the membrane and check for any bulging and especially any spots it may be tearing loose, which would mean premature labour is imminent.” 

Fingers slide out and Harry gladly lowers his knee. 

“Your membrane is beginning to thin just a little bit, Mr Potter, which is actually a good sign right now. It means your body is preparing for birth. If you go into labour at this point, I wouldn’t attempt to stop it.”

“He’d better hold off until at least Sunday,” Draco mutters. 

“Why Sunday, Mr Malfoy?”

Harry can’t help but grin as Healer Carr rearranges the blankets and lowers the drape, leaving Harry’s large abdomen exposed.

“We’re getting married Saturday evening. We decided we wanted to be bonded as husbands before this little one makes an appearance.”

“My congratulations! And I do think you’ll be fine for Saturday. I think you’ve got a couple of weeks yet.” Harry groans as she spreads imaging potion on his stomach. He is truly tired of being pregnant.

“Is that the transducer potion?”

“It is.” The Healer’s eyebrows rise into her hairline, clearly impressed. “You really have been reading. So, let’s have a look at your little brother.” She conjures the imaging bubble and touches her wand to Harry’s skin. Regulus appears on the screen and Harry squeezes Draco’s hand. Something about seeing their son, moving and wriggling inside him, makes him emotional every time. 

“He’s still head down, which is good. If you watch, he’s practising his breathing. See his little lungs expand and contract?” 

James scoots a bit down the bed to better see the bubble. Healer Carr very patiently talks James through every feature of Regulus’ tiny body, his umbilical cord, and measuring the fluid in his amniotic sac, and patiently answers each of his many questions. Harry loves seeing Regulus— but today, he thinks he might be enjoying watching James’ fascination with the medical side of things even more. _I think we’re going to have Healer Training to look forward to._

Healer Carr freezes the image in the bubble with a view of Regulus’ whole body. 

“Mr Potter, is it all right if I show James how to feel where the baby is from the outside based on our imaging? I think he’d find it interesting.” 

“Of course.” 

“Come around here, James.” James scrambles off the bed as Healer Carr smiles and siphons the potion off Harry’s belly.

“Now, see in the imaging how his head is down, but a little to the left side?” James nods. “So find the centre of the bottom of the abdomen, then shift a little to the left.”

James does as he’s told and places his hands gently on Harry. 

“Perfect, now—” The Healer places her hands on top of James’ “—If we press, just a little… There. Do you feel that hard, round spot?”

“I do.”

“That’s baby’s head. Now, since you know that, and you have the image, you can follow and see that the spine would be here—” she moves James’ hand along the skin. “—and that would put his feet about here, up in the ribs.” She releases James’ hands and they both step back. 

“You’d better believe his feet are in my ribs,” Harry laughs. Healer Carr chuckles. 

“When a wizard goes into labour, we would use imaging like that to place hands on the outside of the abdomen if the baby were to get stuck or to need help breaching the membrane opening of the canal.”

“Thank you. That was really neat!” James grins at the Healer, then at Harry and Draco. 

“You’re quite welcome. I think you’d do well in Healer Training, James. You’re welcome to owl and ask me questions any time.” James positively beams. “You look well, Mr Potter. I’m going to go ahead and lift your bedrest and other restrictions. I encourage you to keep taking it as easy as possible, but at this point, the baby and your body are ready when they decide they are ready. I’ll see you next Thursday unless the wee one decides otherwise.”

“Thank you.” 

“Enjoy your wedding, gentlemen. Congratulations! I’ll see myself out.” With a wave of her wand, everything is packed, and Healer Carr bustles from the room. 

James immediately rounds on his dad. “That was _awesome_! Thank you for letting me stay!”

“You certainly showed your knowledge, James. Are you thinking more about Healer Training?” 

“I am; I think I’d really like it.” His eyes turn downward as his expression falls slightly. “I’m still concerned I’m not smart enough, though.”

“James,” Draco sighs, “the only issue you have is your self-confidence. You do realise we have covered _all_ of sixth year Arithmancy and Herbology this summer and half of seventh year, right? Plus, a good portion of Portions, Transfiguration, and Charms! And you’ve learned it _all_ in the span of one summer?” He throws up his hands. “Plus, everything else you’ve read, which you’re clearly retaining, based on your ability to converse with Healer Carr today about _everything_ she brought up. She was impressed. Do you know how hard she is to impress?” 

“I know, but Healer Training will be harder.”

“And you will be older and have had more schooling, James,” Harry reasons. “Your Aunt Hermione says exactly what Draco says, and you know full well she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it.”

“We’ll see,” James finally concedes. “I’d like to work towards it, at least.”

“That’s a good start.” Draco shakes his head. “All right, let’s go downstairs and see what needs done before Saturday.”

* * *

Harry smoothes his ruby red dress robes over his abdomen and looks himself over in the mirror. Even heavily pregnant, the robes fit him perfectly. Of course, they do. As if Draco would have had ill-fitting robes for their wedding, no matter how small. 

In less than thirty minutes, he will be walking out into the garden with Draco and they’re going to be married. Draco will be his husband.

 _I’m not even nervous. I’ve never been so sure of something in my entire life_. 

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice calls up the stairs. “Are you nearly ready?”

“I’m ready.” He walks slowly to the top of the stairs. Hermione gazes up at him, dressed in a cream summer dress with accents the same colour as his robes. 

“Oh Harry, you look wonderful. Let me send James up to help you down the stairs.” Hermione turns and calls for James, who appears in his own dress robes at the bottom of the stairs.

“Help your dad down, would you? It really wouldn’t do to have him stumble right now.”

“Of course, Aunt Hermione.” James climbs the stairs to Harry’s side and offers his arm, which Harry gladly takes. 

“Thank you, James. You look quite dashing.” 

“You’re quite welcome. And if you think I look good, you should see Matthew. Dad, he looks amazing.”

“You’ll make quite the pair, then.” Harry beams at his son, then turns to Hermione. “Have you seen my groom?” 

“He’s helping Scorpius finish getting ready.” She looks him over again and pulls him in for a hug. “You look fantastic. Are you ready to be a married man?”

“I can’t wait,” Harry answers truthfully. He reaches into his robe pocket and withdraws a small box. “Here, James. Don’t lose it.”

“I would never.” James pretends to be offended. 

“I know.” Harry turns at the sound of footsteps on the stairs to see Scorpius, dressed in the robes identical to James, hurrying down the stairs. 

“Dad will be down in just a minute.” 

“Come on then, you two,” Hermione gestures to the open French doors, “let’s go out into the garden and give your dads a minute.” 

Harry watches them go, smiling fondly at the sight of all his five children together out on the lawn, waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

“Ahem.”

He turns to find Draco standing at the top of the stairs, looking immaculate in his deep ruby dress robes and Harry momentarily forgets to breathe. 

“You…you look…I can’t believe I get to marry you,” he stutters. 

Draco descends the stairs and wraps Harry in his arms. “We’re getting married, Harry. I still don’t know how I got to be so lucky. I’m so in love with you, I can’t even find words to describe it. We have five incredible kids. You’re carrying my son. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I can’t even wrap my brain around how we got here, Draco, but I’m so glad we did. I love you so much.” Harry’s tears are falling freely already, and he’s not even sure he can blame his hormones. They stand, wrapped in one another’s arms for long minutes until Hermione’s soft voice interrupts.

“Are you two ready?” 

They pull apart, not looking away from each other until they both turn to Hermione and nod. She throws her arms around each of them in turn. 

“I’m so happy for you both. We’ll all be waiting at the altar.” Her heels click across the floor as she heads back out to the garden.

They stand there, just for a moment, and drink each other in.

“Ready to get married?” Harry finally asks. 

“I’ve never been so ready for anything in my life.”

Draco offers his arm and Harry takes it. Together they walk to the doors and pause.

Their five children stand with Hermione and Blaise, with Minerva waiting under the beautiful arch woven with white roses, just behind the simple stone table that will serve as their altar. Draco beams at Harry and they move across the patio, stopping in front of Minerva who already looks a bit teary.

“Harry and Draco, I cannot express what a privilege it is to bond the two of you as husbands. While you’ve chosen a simple ceremony, the bond you have chosen is strong. It will entwine your magic, your souls, and your love for the rest of eternity.

“Please kneel and join your hands on the altar.”

Draco turns to Harry and carefully helps him to kneel on the soft fabric surrounding the base of the stone before lowering himself next to him. Right hand clasps left and left hand clasps right, all laid atop the smooth surface.

Minerva draws her wand, pulling a silver tendril of magic from Draco’s left hand, looping it around their hands before settling her wand on Harry’s right. 

“Draco, do you freely give your love to Harry, to be bonded to him in body, magic, and soul for the rest of eternity?” 

“Of myself, I freely give.”

The silver tendril of magic tightens against their skin and Draco gasps softly

“Harry, do you accept Draco’s gift of love in body, magic, and soul?”

“I do.”

A bright burst of light illuminates the length of the string of magic, setting their skin aglow where it rests. 

A second silver tendril is drawn from Harry’s left hand, looped and settled on Draco’s right.

“Harry, do you freely give your love to Draco, to be bonded to him in body, magic, and soul for the rest of eternity?

“Of myself, I freely give.”

Tight against their skin, Harry can feel his own magic pulsating in the tendril. 

“Draco, do you accept Harry’s gift of love in body, magic, and soul?”

“I do.”

The second bright burst feels different to Harry, tugging softly at his magic.

Minerva raises her wand and begins a complex pattern between their hands. 

“Liga eam in corpus, mens, magicae et amorem.”

Both silver tendrils glow brightly, and their hands seem to absorb the light.

And then Harry can feel it. There, thrumming along his own magic, is Draco’s. It’s like an echo, just a soft reminder that he is bound to the one his soul loves.

“Please stand, gentlemen.”

Draco tenderly helps Harry to his feet. 

“May I have the rings?”

James, Albus, and Lily step forward from behind Harry, handing Draco’s wedding ring to Minerva, followed by Scorpius from behind Draco, who passes over Harry’s.

“These rings are an outward symbol of the love between you. Like the magic that binds your souls, these rings have no beginning and no end.”

She holds Harry’s wedding band flat in her palm, offering it to Draco.

“Draco, do you take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband wherever life may take you?”

“I do.”

“Place this ring on the fourth finger of his left hand and repeat after me: Please accept this ring as an outward symbol of our bond. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Harry feels the cool metal of the platinum band slide onto his finger, but he has eyes only for the man placing it there. 

“Harry, please accept this ring as an outward symbol of our bond. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Minerva offers her palm again, this time with Draco’s wedding band laid in it.

“Harry, do you take Draco to be your lawfully wedded husband wherever life may take you?”

“I do.”

“Place this ring on the fourth finger of his left hand and repeat after me: Please accept this ring as an outward symbol of our bond. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Harry carefully picks up the ring and slides it onto Draco’s finger, feeling their magic pulsate through it.

“Draco, please accept this ring as an outward symbol of our bond. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“By the authority granted to me by the Wizengamot of the United Kingdom, I now pronounce you bonded husband and husband. I give you Harry and Draco Potter! You may seal your bond with a kiss.”

Draco’s hand cups his cheek gently, and Harry’s tears spill over again. 

“We’re married,” he whispers.

“We are,” Draco whispers back and covers Harry’s lips with his own as their children call out in approval. 

The kiss makes Harry weak at the knees. Through it, he feels not only his magic contentedly running alongside Draco’s, but also a pulse of what he can only describe as love rushing through him. 

Draco withdraws from the kiss sooner than either of them would like, and they exchange places with Minerva.

“Scorpius, please step up here.” Draco looks tenderly at his son. 

“You’ve expressed your desire to be a Potter in name. Is that still your choice?” Harry asks.

Scorpius nods and Blaise hands Harry an official-looking folder, which he opens and lays on the altar. Hermione produces a quill and hands it to Draco, who bends over the folder and signs his name, before passing the quill to Harry. 

Harry bends to sign his name below Draco’s and his breath hitches. There, signed on the parchment in elegant penmanship is “Draco A. Potter” and somehow seeing it on paper for the first time makes it that much more real. He and Draco are _married_. Harry scrawls his signature and stands, turning the folder to face Scorpius. 

“This parchment has been approved and charmed by the Ministry of Magic. It has already been signed by your father and me. When you sign your name, it will be the last time you sign as Scorpius Malfoy. You will henceforth be Scorpius Potter.” 

He offers the quill to Scorpius, who signs the third line on the parchment. It immediately glows white and when the light fades, the Minister’s Seal is affixed to the bottom. Draco and Harry step around the altar to hug Scorpius between them, quickly joined by four more sets of arms. Harry reaches in turn to hug James, Matthew, Albus and Lily. Draco is his husband and they are all, officially, a family. 


	23. Chapter 23

_I cannot wait until rolling over is no longer this difficult._

Harry heaves his body once again and shifts to his other side. It’s sometime between midnight and sunrise and he simply can _not_ get comfortable. He eyeballs his husband of ten days, sleeping soundly next to him.

 _He’s lucky I don’t smother him with a pillow._

When this position is no more comfortable than the one prior, he shifts again, this time onto his hands and knees, belly hanging below him, desperate for anything that takes away that painful pressure he’s been battling in his lower back. He drops down to his elbows and groans softly. This at least helps the pain in his hips. 

And then there’s another wave of discomfort rushing over him as his back protests having Regulus’ weight suspended from his spine. _Why can’t anything be comfortable for more than three minutes?!?_ He rocks softly back and forth in an attempt to distract himself from the frustration of it all.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice is thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“I have no idea,” he grits out, “but I haven’t slept more than fifteen minutes all night.”

He feels the bed shift as Draco sits up, but he can’t even bring himself to look over at his husband. He just rocks, slowly, and tries to think about anything other than the constant discomfort he’s feeling. 

Warm hands land on either side of his spine and begin rubbing. He moans at the relieving touch.

“Do you think you’re in labour?”

“I don’t think so. It’s the same discomfort I’ve been battling; I just can’t get it to go away.” 

“Have you taken any pain-relief potion?

“I took a dose when we went to bed.”

“That was five hours ago. You can have more.” Draco’s hands still against his back. “What about a warm bath? You can take a dose and we can get in the tub and see if the water helps.”

“It’s worth a try.”

Draco hands him a phial of potion and heads for the bathroom. The sound of water running creates another issue entirely. He swallows the potion and sighs. At over 37 weeks pregnant, he swears he spends half his time going to the loo, in the loo, or heading out of the loo.

“Draco?” he calls softly.

“Yes, love?” Draco’s head pops around the door.

“I need the loo. Can you help me up?” 

“Of course.” Draco pads across the room and strong arms help Harry to sit upright. He reaches up and puts his arms around his husband’s neck and heaves himself to stand. Balance has become an issue in the last week or so as Regulus has gotten so much bigger and every bit of the weight is out in front. 

Draco helps him to the loo and then steps into the warm water, waiting until Harry is ready to get in. Harry grips his hands and steps over the edge of the tub, and they settle together, Harry leaning heavily on Draco’s chest. The warmth of the water is immediately relieving. 

“Oh, that helps.” Harry closes his eyes and tries to rein in his emotions. This pregnancy will be worth it in the end, but he’s just so fed up with being perpetually helpless and uncomfortable. And tired. So tired. “I’m just so ready to not be pregnant. This is miserable.”

“I know, love.” Draco drops a kiss to his temple. “I wish there were something more I could do.” 

“Reach up in there and pull him out,” Harry says, only half kidding. 

“We can call Healer Carr or Healer Powell about inducing.” 

“If I am still this miserable later today, we can see what Healer Carr thinks. I don’t want to push Regulus before he’s ready, but I’m just _done_.” 

“I know. Lay back and see if you can rest, maybe even sleep. I’ll be right here.” 

* * *

Harry winces as he opens his eyes sometime later to see James perched on the edge of the tub. 

“I’m sorry, Dad, did I wake you? I just brought Draco some tea.”

“No, it wasn’t you. I’m having pain again. How long did I sleep?”

“It’s just after nine, so a few hours.” Draco’s hands rub his stomach gently. “What kind of pain are you having?”

“Low back again, but it’s starting to wrap around my belly.” Harry looks to James. “Would you Floo Healer Carr and tell her it’s not an extreme emergency, but I think I need to be checked over?” 

“Of course.” James is up and out of the bathroom immediately. 

“Do you think you’re labouring?” 

“I think I might be starting.” Harry manages a smile. “I think we might get to meet our son today.” 

Draco’s arms hold him tight. “That sounds wonderful.” 

“Birthing him scares the pants off of me, but it’ll be worth it in the end.” 

“It will. I’m so ready to finally see the baby that I’ve watched grow from the outside. I didn’t get to see Scorpius being born, I’m so glad I’ll get to be with you for Regulus’ birth.” 

Footsteps echo from the other room and James reappears with Healer Carr in tow. 

“I told you it wasn’t an emergency, James.”

“I told her that. She came right away anyway.”

“He did tell me. I was available, so I came on through.” Healer Carr sets down her bag. “Do you think you’re in labour, Mr Potter?”

“I honestly don’t know, but last night I couldn’t sleep at all. Absolutely nothing was comfortable for more than three minutes. I did manage to snooze once Draco got me into the tub, but now the discomfort is moving out of my back and hips and wrapping around my stomach.”

“That sounds like it could be early labour. We’ll have a check.” 

“James?” Draco’s voice is soft. “Can you round up the others and let them know what’s going on? And then Floo your Aunt Hermione? If your dad’s in labour, today is going to be a little intense.” 

“Sure.” James smiles and heads for the door. 

“Okay, Mr Potter. Let’s see if you can turn over on your knees and put your head on your husband’s shoulder.” 

With the help of both the Healer and Draco, Harry turns. He feels positively ridiculous like this, his arse sticking out of the water. But if he’s in labour, he supposes there will be a lot of feeling ridiculous today. 

Healer Carr’s fingers slide in and she makes an approving noise. “You’re most definitely labouring, Mr Potter. The opening to your canal is dilating and your membrane is stretching. Your anus isn’t really dilating yet, so still early on, but you are indeed in labour.” 

Her fingers slide out and she and Draco help Harry to return to sitting against his husband. 

“What do you recommend?” 

“If you’re able, I would recommend taking your pain potion to take the edge off and walk, just as much as you can possibly stand. The potion is safe until your water breaks. Keep someone with you, as you’ll probably have to pause and lean on them when your contractions really begin to intensify. I’ll come at least every hour and check on you. If your water breaks, go immediately to the Male Pregnancy Unit. I’ll alert Healer Powell that you’re in labour.”

“Do you think we’ll have the baby today?” 

“You likely laboured through a lot of the night, so I would say probably so. For wizards, it usually tends to be slow at the beginning, then much quicker towards the end.” She stands and gathers her bag. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

She heads down the stairs and Harry takes a deep breath. “We’re having a baby today, Draco.” 

“I know. I can’t believe he’ll be here, in our arms.”

“Let’s start walking. I’d like to get this show on the road, so to speak.” 

Draco helps him from the tub and he dresses in a long nightgown with nothing underneath. It’s yet another thing that makes him feel ridiculous, but all his books recommend such attire for labour when, as one book put it, ’it feels like someone wants to stick a finger in every five minutes.’ Together, they make their way downstairs.

Hermione is seated in the living room, surrounded by all five kids. 

“Are you in labour, dad?” Lily is positively bouncing with excitement. 

“That seems to be the case.” Harry can’t help the smile he gives to Lily, who is so excited to be a big sister. “I’m supposed to do as much walking as I can, so I think Draco and I are going to take a stroll down to the pitch to start with and see how it goes.”

Draco helps Harry into his shoes and together, they move through the French doors and out into the garden. Harry squeezes Draco’s hand as they head down the hill. 

“Do you remember the first time you visited? When we walked down to the pitch?”

“I do.” 

“That’s when I figured out I really fancied you.”

Draco chuckles. “I spent the entire time between our tea at the coffee shop and that night trying to sort out my feelings. But I knew the minute you opened the front door that I wanted to be much more than your friend.”

“We certainly took long enough after that to get our ducks in a row and start seeing each other properly.” Harry shakes his head, thinking back to the weeks of awkward maybe-flirting on his part.

“We didn’t waste any time after, though, seeing as we’re married and adding another little duck to our row today.” Draco pauses in his walking, tugging Harry into his arms and kissing his forehead. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind romance, but it’s been perfect for us.”

“If you find the person you’re meant to be with, why wait?” Harry leans against Draco’s chest and wraps his arms around his husband. ”I love you, Draco. I wouldn’t change a thing about how quickly we moved.”

“I love you, too.” Draco releases his hold on Harry and threads their fingers together again. 

Hand in hand, they walk, talking about anything and everything except the fact that in a matter of hours, Harry has to push a baby out of his body. They talk about Lily and her excitement over visiting Mina and her family. They talk about Albus and his progress with his anxiety. They talk about Scorpius and his blossoming love of Potions. They talk about James and Matthew and their post-Hogwarts inclinations. Anything but birthing their child. 

They walk around the pitch, simply making laps, and pause when Healer Carr arrives for a check. Harry again feels ridiculous, with her reaching under his gown there in the outdoors, but he’s progressed and that’s what really matters. 

Eventually, the contractions begin to intensify, and Harry has to lean on Draco. He moans into his husband’s chest and his ear is filled with quiet whispers. “I love you. You’re amazing. I know this hurts but you’re birthing our son. I can’t tell you what that means to me.” 

Anything Harry thinks might help when he’s contracting, they try. Draco rubs his back, presses his hips together, and rocks their entwined bodies back and forth in turn, but nothing can actually quell the feeling of being turned inside out. 

On Healer Carr’s fourth visit, she tells them that his membrane is nearly fully dilated, and his anal opening has started to soften. “This means contractions are going to get worse, but it also means you’re turning towards the home stretch. If your water breaks before I come back, take your Portkey to St Mungo’s. It could be any time.” 

When Harry can’t walk through the pain anymore, they return to the house. Draco’s soft hands and smooth voice never waiver, supporting his husband through every pain. He feels like he’s literally being ripped in half every time a contraction hits, but he clings to Draco — to his voice, to his touch — to help him through. 

“Draco, I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can, Harry. You can and you will, and in the end, you’ll have our son in your arms.”

The stairs are an impossibility and he labours in the living room, kneeling and squatting against the couch in turn. He’s quite relieved when Healer Carr comes again and checks his progress. 

“I don’t think it’s necessary to wait any longer. Healer Powell will be waiting for you. You’ll have a baby in a few hours’ time.” 

Draco gathers their bags, and Harry hugs each of their children in turn and then Hermione. “Aunt Hermione will bring you over when Regulus has been born. Draco will text with updates. I love all of you.”

A chorus of “I love you, too”s meet his ears as another contraction rips through his body. He moans and rocks against Draco and the instant it subsides, they Portkey away. 

“Good to see you again, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,” Healer Powell greets them with a jovial tone. 

“It’s Mr Potter for me now, as well. Please call us Draco and Harry.”

Harry can hear the smile in Draco’s voice, even if his head is still lying on Draco’s shoulder. 

“Congratulations to you both! Healer Carr sent her notes, but if we can get your husband into the bed, we’ll check him over and see where we are.”

Draco helps Harry into the bed and takes his hand as Healer Powell begins checking him over. Continuous monitoring charms are put into place, and Harry hears the swoosh of Regulus’ heartbeat fill the room. 

“You both look great on the monitors, Harry. Let’s see where you’re at.” 

Harry requires Draco’s help to lift his leg for Healer Powell to check his dilation, and he mentally scolds himself for feeling weak. He’s birthing a human, for Merlin’s sake. 

Before the Healer can even begin to check, Harry cries out involuntarily at the ripping sensation inside his body from another contraction. “Draco!”

“I’m right here, love, I won’t leave you alone even for a moment.” Draco immediately drops his leg and pulls Harry into his chest. 

“Hurts!” he hisses. 

“I know, love. I know.” Gentle hands smooth his hair as he writhes, his body attempting to somehow alleviate the pain as fluid gushes from his body. 

“Nice and clear.” Healer Powell’s voice penetrates the fog of pain. Someone must have vanished the fluid because the bed beneath him is suddenly dry again. 

Harry sags as the wave of pain finally begins to subside. 

“Don’t suppose,” he pants, “there's time to decide I don’t want to do this?” He’s crying openly into Draco’s shoulder and can’t even bring himself to care. 

The Healer chuckles, but Draco strokes his hair. 

“I know it’s hard, Harry; I’m so sorry, love. But it’ll be worth it.”

“For Regulus,” Harry reminds himself aloud.

“For Regulus,” Draco confirms. “For our son.”

Harry heaves a breath and nods. He can do this. And as soon as he does, they can meet their son.

“Let’s see where you are before the next one comes,” Healer Powell encourages gently.

Draco gently pulls his leg back again, and Harry gasps as the Healer’s fingers slide in.

“Your membrane is totally dilated and broken. You’re at about a 7 of 10 for your anal opening. You’ve really done a fantastic job labouring so long at home, you’re nearly there. I would bet you’ll have a baby within the next two hours.”

“I’m not sure I can do this for two more hours!” 

“You won’t. You’ll be ready to push before then and it will give you something else to focus on. I’ll give you gentlemen some privacy. You can press the call button if you need someone. Otherwise, I’ll be back in a bit to see how you’re doing.”

No sooner does the Healer exit the room than Harry is wracked with another brutal contraction.

“Fuck! I need to stand!”

He can’t explain how or why he knows he needs to stand, but his body screams at him to be on his feet. 

Draco immediately guides his legs off the bed and offers his body to Harry for support, shouldering his weight with no complaint. Standing helps, and so do Draco’s hands squeezing his hips together and their bodies swaying slowly back and forth. 

“You’re doing so well, Harry. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.” Draco’s steady stream of comfort and reassurance grounds him and gives him strength.

Harry suddenly feels Regulus shift and for a moment it feels as if that little body might burst out his spine. The pressure against his pelvis screams to new levels and suddenly he feels like his hips are being wedged forcibly apart. 

“He’s moving. I can feel him moving.”

They rock until the contraction subsides and Harry sits on the edge of the bed. His whole body throbs with the aftermath of the intense tightening of his muscles and whatever — Regulus, he assumes — shifted so violently inside him. He knew labour would be difficult, but he was not prepared for the radiating pain from which there is no relief. 

“He shifted somehow during that one, I think. It feels like he’s wedged in between my hips now. It’s like being split in two. This is awful.”

“I know, love. I wish I could take away your pain, but every single contraction brings us closer to meeting our son. I can’t wait to see Regulus in your arms.”

“Can we lay down? It might help more, now that he’s shifted.” The heaviness now burgeoning between his legs is almost worse than the pain.

After some careful manoeuvring, Harry is on his side and Draco is spooned against his back. Long, thin fingers rub his arms, his belly, his hips. 

“Oh…here it comes. I’m gonna be split into pieces.” Harry groans as he feels the tightening begin. Draco’s arms come around him, holding him close.

“I’m right here. I’ll hold you together. You’re doing such a brilliant job, Harry. You’re so strong.” 

Draco gently rocks them back and forth as Harry moans. The wedge from earlier feels like it’s being hammered into his hips and there’s an immense amount of pressure pushing down towards the base of his spine. He’s certain his hips are going to shatter. Guttural noises escape his mouth, unlike anything he’s ever heard before. 

Being cradled against Draco’s firm chest anchors him, and being held by his husband’s strong but gentle hands reminds him that this baby, this product of his and Draco’s love, is making his way into the world and into their family. 

“That’s it, Harry, deep breaths. You're doing so well.” 

The wave crests and crashes, and Harry can breathe fully again. 

“That helps; you holding me. But something’s different now that he’s shifted. I don’t know what happened. It’s just so much pressure.” 

“Should I call the Healer?” 

“Not yet. I don’t feel like I need to push, it’s just…there’s no way to ever be prepared for this. I can’t even describe it. Suddenly this little body I’ve kept safe for nine months…my body’s goal is to expel him at all costs. I know it’s how we get him into our arms, but it’s just…”

“It’s a lot, love. I hate seeing you in so much pain but you’re managing it so well. You’re doing so much better than I ever would. And there are no words to tell you what this means to me, for you to bring our son into the world.”

They navigate several more contractions in their newly-found position before Healer Powell returns. 

“Do you feel like you’re making any progress?” 

“He moved down between my hips, I think. It felt like he was about to come out through my spine.” 

“Lots of pressure?” 

“So much…”

“It sounds like he dropped to the canal. Let’s have a look.” 

Healer Powell waves his wand and two oddly shaped supports appear on either side of the bed. Harry knows from his reading that he’s expected to put his calves in them, basically spreading his arse for display. They’re different than the ones for witches, in order to tip his pelvis for a better exit path for the baby.

Draco helps him shift, sitting behind him as a support, and Harry lays against him, legs in the supports, splayed open. Healer Powell slides his hand in and it takes all Harry’s self-control not to kick the man in the face. Everything is already so tender, so sore, he has no idea how he will manage to push a baby out.

“He’s right there, Harry. I can feel his head.” Healer Powell withdraws his hand and eases Harry’s legs back to the bed. “When your body tells you to push, I want you to push. As soon as that happens, press the call button so we can come set up for delivery. He’s almost here, gentlemen.”

Several contractions later, Harry has begun to wonder if Healer Powell was somehow mistaken, that perhaps he still had more labouring to do. But then there’s fire spreading in his groin, and burning, so much burning, and he’s bucking back against Draco and there is nothing in the world except a desire to bear down, to push their son from his body.

“I need to push. I need to push.” 

“Push, then, love!”

He feels Draco shift and suddenly Healer Powell hurries in with two Mediwizards, but he ignores them all and closes his eyes, obeying his body and pushing down. 

“He needs to push,” Draco reports to the Healer. The urge to push subsides, but the tightening of the contraction doesn’t. Harry gulps for air. 

“Let’s get you back in the supports before the next wave, Harry. It’s time to meet your son.”

Hands guide his calves back into the air and Draco sits reclined in the bed behind him, Harry lying on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, Harry. You’re birthing our son. Regulus is almost here. I’ve never been more in love with you than I am in this very moment.” 

Harry opens his eyes long enough to see one Mediwizard on each side of him and Healer Powell between his legs, then the twisting in his gut intensifies and he needs to push again. 

“Push, Harry! Push hard!” Healer Powell’s voice urges. Harry pushes, _hard_ , until he gasps for breath. “That was excellent. He’s moving down. A few more pushes, and his head will be out.”

Harry bears down again, pushing against the bizarre sensation of feeling Regulus’ body sliding down inside his body. Gasping for breath, he hesitates.

_I don’t want to do this. I can’t. I just want the pain to stop._

“Deep breath in and push, Harry!” A voice he doesn’t recognise is encouraging him, but he doesn’t care. 

“Harry!” Draco’s voice is in his ear. “You have to push, love. Regulus needs his daddy to bring him fully into the world.” 

_I have to push. I have to push for Draco, for Regulus_.

Harry gasps in a breath, tucks his chin to his chest, and shoves down with all his might. 

“That’s it!” Healer Powell fairly crows. “He’ll be out in just a few more pushes if you go like that. Take a breath and go again as soon as you feel the urge!”

And he does. Harry pushes, and then there’s fire burning in his groin. He stops pushing as his body involuntarily screams in pain. 

“He’s crowning, Harry. This is the worst of it. Push through it!” 

“I love you so much, Harry. I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my life. Our _son_ , Harry! He’s almost here!” Harry opens his eyes to look back at Draco. “Push, Harry. Let’s meet our son.”

Harry closes his eyes and when the next wave meets him, he pushes against it. 

“That’s it! Take a breath. Breathe, just for a moment.”

Harry fights the intense desire to bear down and sucks in deep lung fulls of oxygen as he feels the Healer’s hands working at his opening.

“Give me your hand, Harry.”

Harry blindly offers his hand to the Mediwizard next to him, who guides his hand between his legs, placing it on something warm and wet and sticky.

“That’s your son. He’s _right_ there.”

“Nearly done, Harry! Next contraction, a big push for his shoulders.”

Draco says nothing, but Harry tips his head back to see him weeping openly. Those emotions his husband works so hard to control around people he doesn’t know are on display. Harry opens his mouth to tell Draco how much he loves him, but the next wave of pressure overtakes him. 

His vision goes black at the edges and the middle bursts with white stars. This contraction is more torturous than the rest. Harry arches his back and pushes. He pushes for Draco, the man who has loved him so fully; for Regulus, the product of that love; and for himself, to meet this child who is the blend of himself and his husband. 

“Reach down, Harry!” Healer Powell’s voice breaks through the haze. “Reach down and deliver your son!

Harry reaches and the Mediwizards guide his hands beneath tiny arms and he pushes his son into the world, lifting him to his chest. There are no words for the relief that pulsates through his body. The pain rushes away and there is nothing in the world but him and Draco and their son.

“Oh, _Harry_. He’s perfect. He’s absolutely perfect.” Draco is awestruck. “Harry. You made him, grew him in your body. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Harry replies without looking away from Regulus. He’s both of them, and it’s amazing. Strawberry blond wisps of hair look like they may end up being Harry’s curls and he has Harry's mouth, but he has Draco’s nose and chin. And only time will tell what colour his eyes will be.

“Regulus Etamin Potter.” Draco rolls the name over his tongue, words thick with emotion. “You certainly are our brightest star.” 

* * *

Two hours later, Harry is propped up in bed with a small mountain of pillows, his husband next to him. Seeing Regulus in Draco’s arms fills him with an indescribable emotion. 

He is exhausted and sore. His belly, swollen and squashy, no longer holds their son. He delivered the afterbirth and the Healing team spent a good amount of time with spells and salves to put his ravaged body back together, but it is still far from how it once was. Draco had helped him into the shower, where he wept, partially out of relief, partially out of pain, and partially out of just being overwhelmed. 

Draco had washed him with gentle hands and helped him into clean clothes, and he’s at least feeling mostly human now. They’ve sent a text to Hermione, who has let them know she’ll be bringing the kids soon. But for now, it is Harry and Draco and their new-born son. 

“I still can’t believe he’s here.” Draco’s fingers trace Regulus’ small features. “I’m so proud of you, Harry. You fought so hard to birth him. You handled it all so well.” 

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Harry studies the beautiful picture made of his husband holding their son. “Your support got me through it.”

There’s a shuffling in the hallway and a knock at the door to their room. 

“Come in!” Draco calls, and the door bursts open, their children spilling into the room. Lily gasps the instant she spots Regulus. 

“Oh! He’s so tiny!” 

“He certainly didn’t feel tiny on the way out,” Harry quips at his daughter. “Come over here beside Draco, and you can hold your brother.”

Lily settles in the chair beside Draco, and Regulus is placed in her arms.

“Hi, Regulus! I’m your favourite sister!”

“You’re his only sister, you twit,” Albus retorts. 

Scorpius snorts as the two boys move to stand beside Lily, both smiling down at Regulus. 

Harry looks to James and Matthew, who are standing hand-in-hand on Harry's side of the bed. 

“Are you doing all right, Dad?”

“I am, James. It’ll take me a while to recover. I’ll start the potions regimen to help tomorrow.”

“Was labour as bad as the books say?” 

“Worse.” Harry laughs as his son turns a bit green at that declaration. “But worth it. Having a baby with a partner you love is worth an awful lot of pain and sacrifice.”

James smiles. “Someday, I hope.”

“You’ll get there. Don’t be in a hurry.”

“We’re not.”

James leans into Matthew who grins at him. Harry knows they’re young, but the more he’s been around the young couple this summer, the more he’s beginning to think they may be one of those rare couples who are Hogwarts’ sweethearts and go on to spend a happy life together. He hopes, fervently, they can be as happy as he is with Draco.

Harry looks over to see Scorpius cradling Regulus in his arms. He looks fit to burst, grinning down at his baby brother.

He settles back against his pillows and watches their children take turns holding their new brother. In some ways, starting over with parenting after twelve years is terrifying, but he wouldn’t trade his current life for anything. He never imagined life could look like this; loving husband, beautiful kids, and happier than he can ever remember being. Lacing his fingers through Draco’s, he squeezes lightly. His husband turns to look at him. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

* * *

Twelve days later, Harry stands on an empty Platform 9 ¾, gazing at the place where the train had been, his five children waving as they pulled away, heading back to Hogwarts. The house will not be so quiet without them this year, though. A soft coo comes from the infant in his arms, and he smiles down at Regulus, who stares back at him with wide eyes.

Draco’s hand squeezes his hip gently, and he snuggles into his husband’s side.

“This is where it all started, one year ago.” Draco kisses his temple.

“It seems like so much longer and just yesterday, all at the same time.” 

“I never imagined that asking you for tea would lead to all this.”

“I never imagined life could even look like this.” Harry looks down at their son again. “I never thought I could be this in love, or get pregnant and have a son with my wonderful husband. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. It was a long road to get here, but I wouldn’t trade our life for the world, Draco. This last year has had trials, but it’s been wonderful. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Harry. I still don’t know how I managed to get this lucky.” 

“Life felt awfully cruel for a really long time, and I don’t know if it’s luck or fate or just the way things go, but I’m grateful for it, whatever it is. You, and Regulus, and our kids…this life is what my soul was too afraid to hope for.”

Draco holds him close, Regulus snuggled between them, for a long moment. Harry can’t help but think about how a year ago, everything was set in motion to grant him a fresh chance at love and _something good_ , the second time around. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please show the author your appreciation in a comment and by leaving kudos below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of the on-going and anonymous H/D Mpreg fest. The author will be revealed June 21st.


End file.
